Her Eyes Opened
by Gillingham
Summary: Early steps in the relationship between Brandon and Marianne.
1. Chapter 1

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 1

Ever since bringing them back home after Marianne's fever broke, Colonel Brandon had become a steady presence in the Dashwoods existence. Of course he was around as he still visited his friend Sir John frequently at Barton, but he also made a point of coming to see the Dashwoods as well. He brought Marianne music and books every now and then and early on when Marianne still tired so easily he even read to her. In the garden on nice days, in the front room on the days that were not so nice. Their's was a a friendship in the making.

Marianne had already understood that the Colonel had a great deal to do with first finding her in the rain and then getting her mother to her when she had been so very poorly, but until Elinor had told her exactly how he had been sick with worry, waiting up in case he could help in any way, unshaven and dishevelled until Elinor had sent him to fetch Mrs Dashwood, Marianne had not quite understood the man's character. In the hours and hours the two girls spent talking in the bedroom when Marianne was getting her strength back Elinor even told her about Brandon duelling Willoughby for what the younger man had done to the Colonel's ward. First Marianne had been a little shocked, but Elinor had rushed to continue that of course Brandon had simply taught Willoughby a lesson and had not harmed him. Not physically anyways.

When Brandon had come to see them at Barton Cottage for the first time after their return, Marianne had made a point of asking him to come again. She wanted him to know he was a very welcome visitor and that she would like the opportunity to make up for her less than admirable behaviour towards him before. She had started to see him in such different light since their return to Barton: if before she thought him unremarkable, old and plain, he now appeared to her strong and fierce in the most trustworthy manner. She could now see how it was the quiet and hidden strength of character that was most powerful, and this man had so much of it. When he talked to her, it was clear he gave her his fullest attention. Nothing he did was in half measures, yet he was able to remain civil and polite at all times. You would not catch him light-heartedly scolding other people's character behind their backs. Not like Willoughby. Marianne was so ashamed now – to think that back then she had thought Willoughby's disrespect good fun!

It was one of the nice, sunny afternoons when Brandon had come to see them all at Barton Cottage again that prompted Marianne to want to apologize for her earlier behaviour. He was taking a short, slow walk with Marianne and Elinor in the fields behind the cottage when Marianne again felt that there was something holding him back, something stopping him from feeling easy with them. Since he and Elinor were great friends, it had to be Marianne herself causing it.

"You seem to be getting your usual colour back," he conversed, complementing her complexion, which was, indeed, improving. She had been sickly pale for such a long time after having to spend a short eternity in her bed even after the fever broke. She had been so weak.

"Thank you, Colonel," she replied, her gaze directed at the path. She wasn't quite sure how to approach him and that made even looking at him difficult. She then collected herself and summoned her courage.

"My dear Colonel, it really is thanks to you – and Elinor – that I had a chance of getting well again. I'm quite at a loss as how to thank you properly," she started.

"Please, Miss Marianne, don't…" he tried to interrupt, but she would not have it. She had to say this now or she might never be able to.

"Please, Colonel, I have to apologize to you as well," she said and looked at him. His face expressed confusion. Apologize? Before he could ask, she went on.

"Before, well, London… and even there… I know the way I behaved towards you was not fair or respectful and I wish to apologize for my foolishness."

He looked at her, not knowing what to say. Elinor had, he noted, stopped and stayed behind to pick some flowers.

"I can only offer my naivety and inexperience with the world as an excuse and express my hope that perhaps now I might learn to know you a little more and perhaps we can start our acquaintance as if… well… anew?"

Brandon took a moment to think about what she was saying. She was asking if they could start over. He didn't mind at all. It was all forgiven ages ago as far as he was concerned. The feelings he had harboured for her from the moment he first laid his eyes on her had not gone anywhere and if anything they had become stronger each time he had visited Barton Cottage and got to know this lovely young woman a little better.

"Please do not worry yourself with such thoughts anymore. What was, was and today is a new day. I would be honoured if you would consider me a friend," he eventually managed to say, and received the sweetest of smiles from Marianne.

However, what he also realized as he thought of what she had said, was that she really was so very young. Very young and already she had been hurt so badly by someone she had trusted, naïvely or not. He could see that Marianne had not bounced back to the sparkly, bubbly person she was before the whole Willoughby thing. She smiled at him and seemed pleased enough to spend a little time with him, but she was more quiet and she was more withdrawn. He observed this even in how she was with her own family. She was polite and was able to carry out good conversation. She still seemed to have an interest in reading and music, but there was just something amiss and he would have to tread carefully around her not to upset her again. When on his own he would so often think of her and he came to understand that if he wanted there to be a chance that she might return his feelings, he would have to give her more space to heal.

He would have to let her find her own two feet again and regain her confidence. Otherwise he would just be taking advantage of her vulnerable state and that would not be a viable start to anything. It would not be a solid base to build anything on. It pained him to admit it, but he would have to keep a little distance and to give her space while all the time his heart and very soul were craving to be near her and the desire to show her how much he cared for her was almost overpowering.

Brandon was right about Marianne's confidence. Elinor could see it, too, even though their mother seemed not want to see it. Marianne was pulling away from people emotionally. Where the old Marianne easily got involved in discussions and activities of all sort, the present Marianne made enough effort for most people not to notice anything amiss, but Elinor could see Marianne was rarely if ever investing herself fully in anything. She was guarded in her conversation and usually excused herself from almost all company soon after the minimum effort required by social expectations was fulfilled. Elinor herself and Colonel Brandon were the only exceptions.

Some weeks after their walk, Elinor came to realize that Brandon's visits were not as frequent anymore. She also noticed that he seemed somewhat withdrawn now, not trying so much to keep Marianne company, not devoting most of his visit to trying to cheer her up and converse with her. He no longer read to her either unless Marianne specifically asked him to. What was happening? Elinor was suddenly worried: what had the two talked about back then on that walk? She had not asked Marianne, figuring her sister would tell her if she wanted to.

"Marianne?" Elinor asked that night when she and Marianne had both climbed into their bed and had tucked themselves under the covers.

"Yes?"

"Do you know if there is something worrying Colonel Brandon?" Elinor asked. Marianne was quiet for a moment. She, too, had noticed that Brandon had seemed preoccupied and withdrawn, but could not work out what it was. After all, he had accepted her apology and she had no reason to think he would be terribly displeased with anything she had said or done since.

"I don't know, Elinor. He's been very quiet lately and hasn't come around quite as often lately, and to be perfectly honest, I'm a little worried myself," Marianne answered.

"Worried?"  
>"Well, I've told him I would like us to be friends and I apologized for being so horrid to him before. And he seemed to forgive me and said he wanted to be friends too, but then he's stopped coming so often and I just worry that perhaps he couldn't forgive me after all or he's started to find me boring." All these thoughts had come to Marianne one after another. He was being polite to her because he was a real gentleman, but perhaps he was growing weary of her? She had lost weight during her illness, her hair was not shiny, she was pale and still tired easily. And she had acted so naïvely and stupidly before. What if he now saw her simply as a juvenile and why would someone who had so much experience and had travelled the world want to spend time with a silly girl like her?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 2

With Marianne's progressing recovery, Elinor and Edward's wedding plans progressed as well. Edward had already moved to his parish and Brandon had had good repairs made to the house to make it comfortable for Edward and Elinor and – he hoped – any offspring there might be. Both Edward and Elinor had become dear friends to him. They had swiftly overcome the momentary awkwardness when Edward (and no doubt many others) thought that Brandon may have switched his attentions from the younger Dashwood girl to Elinor as the sensible option. It was not Edward's nature to harbour doubts when the two of the most decent people he knew both had made it clear to him that they were friends but there was never any assumption of anything further.

It hadn't taken Edward very long either to see how the older man was still hopelessly in love with Marianne. Brandon kept his composure admirably and it was very likely that most people would not notice a thing, but Edward did. Edward could just about feel a stab in his heart when he saw how much the Colonel yearned to be closer to Marianne when they were in the same room. The man's face seemingly did not flinch, but Edward could see it lit up even at a mention of Marianne.

During the renovations to the parish house, Brandon had taken to visiting the house regularly. Nothing too formal, simply swing by when he was out on his rides. Say hello to Edward and check that the work was being done as specified. Gradually the friendship grew to a point that Edward asked Brandon to be his best man at the wedding. Brandon felt honoured and accepted easily.

In the time that he had learned to know the Dashwood women better, Sir John had decided he would be a sort of a godfather to them all. A cousin who could extend his better fortune to look after the less fortunate (but ever so lovely) relatives. The fun those girls had added to his and his mother-in-law's family in the time they had known them. Well, less fun times as well, he had to admit. Marianne's turn with Willoughby had not been utterly positive even though initially they had not been able to fault the girl for showing interest in such a dashing young man. Of course Sir John had, from the start, tried to champion his dear friend even when his friend simply refused to believe that Marianne would ever look at him twice, and now that Willoughby was safely out of the picture Sir John was adamant that dear Brandon and Miss Marianne should try to re-acquaint themselves properly.

Sir John kept inviting Brandon over frequently, knowing that the younger man would most probably also visit the Dashwoods when he came over. Sir John also made sure to invite the Dashwoods over at the same time as Colonel Brandon as often as he was able to without making it too obvious. That poor girl had really been knocked sideways with that fever and was still not quite back to her old self. Physically she seemed to have recovered by the time Elinor's wedding plans really gathered speed, but somehow the girl was still a mere shadow of her former self. When Sir John looked at his friend Brandon looking at the girl, thinking no one was taking any notice of him, Sir John could feel Brandon's longing as clearly as it had walked over and slapped him in the face. Brandon was by no means over his feelings towards Marianne even though he had been putting on a cooler front on it of late. Sir John wondered why, but suspected it was the usual reasons Brandon gave him when asked: why would a lovely, beautiful and young woman like Miss Marianne be interested in a man like him.

"A man like you? And what kind of a man is that, Brandon?" Sir John had asked him once. Brandon hadn't replied straight away but had stoked the fire they had been sitting by a little too aggressively.

"Old. A boring recluse." Brandon had eventually answered. Sir John had laughed.

"If you're old and boring then I'm Queen Salome. Brandon, my man, you are the best friend a man can have and you will be the best husband a woman could want. It's just a little hidden under there somewhere. Look, all you need to do is to woo the girl a little. I can tell she already thinks the world of you."

But Brandon had not tried to "woo" the girl. It was almost the opposite, as Sir John noticed that his friend did not visit as often as he used to, hence not visiting the Dashwoods as often either. Something was holding the man back and seeing how much keeping his distance seemed to hurt Brandon, Sir John for once held back and did not ask any more. It did not mean, however, that he would idly stand by and let the two of his very favourite people pass each other by without any effort to really see if there could be a mutual spark. Brandon was on fire, he could see that, but Marianne was not in a state to light up just yet. And so it was that when it was time to think of the other Dashwood girl's wedding, Sir John took over as the self-appointed godfather and offered his house for the wedding. This way he would not only get to do something nice to his second favourite people in the world, Elinor and Edward, but he could also perhaps have some influence in making sure that the paths would cross as frequently as possible for Brandon and Marianne.

Elinor had delayed setting the wedding date for the sole purpose of making sure that her sister would be well enough to take part in everything as the maid of honour. The young women were both getting a little emotional as the wedding date approached. Although Marianne was now seventeen and no longer had her head in exceedingly romantic and sentimental clouds when it came to relationships, be it romantic or otherwise, it was still a big event. The one person she had been able to lean onto her entire life, the one person who was always constant and never turned her away, would leave their little family to start one of her own.

Of course Marianne was overjoyed with happiness when she thought of Elinor and Edward together. They were so well suited and it was clear that there was no shortage of love there. She laughed at herself now, thinking back how she had perceived Edward when she first met him. Reserved, passionless, bland. How wrong she had been. Gods, what an appalling judge of character she had been and all she could now hope for that she had perhaps learned from all that had happened and was getting better at understanding other people. There was really only one way of describing her attitude to the world around her just that short time ago: solipsistic. Marianne just about shivered with shame thinking about her own behaviour. And to think that someone as amazing as Colonel Brandon had been there and she had now probably managed to drive him away. Why would he want anything to do with such a childish girl as she clearly was?

Elinor and Marianne did not let the impending feeling of separation stop them from enjoying everything that went into preparing for the wedding. Working out what each was going to wear, thinking about the flowers and invitation list were a great way for the two sisters to spend time together. Even young Margaret was able to pitch in in the plans and, though the girls did not really notice, their mother took a great deal of pleasure in seeing her daughters spending time together like that, so close to each other.

The guest list was not long. Not because Sir John or Lady Middleton had limited it in any way, but because that's what both Elinor and Edward wanted. Neither was keen on being the centre of attention to a huge gathering of people and neither had ever been ardent ball-goers. It was one evening when Marianne and Elinor were once more going over their invitation list when Marianne noticed the lack of a certain Colonel she had secretly hoped she'd see at the wedding.

"Are we not inviting Colonel Brandon?"

At first Elinor didn't know what she meant, then remembered.

"Ahh, Gods I forgot to tell you: Edward has asked the Colonel to be his best man so he's already included in everything."

Marianne's fear that the Colonel was slowly stepping from their circle of friends, and the budding panic she felt over this prospect quickly did a full summersault in her gut and the relief brought a slight blush on her cheeks along with a smile she tried to cover by leaning over the guest list a little deeper. He would be at the wedding! Elinor had seen this, though. Marianne was clearly harbouring warm feelings towards her dear friend, just like she knew he had not stopped caring for Marianne. What was holding them back, though? That she could not work out and from the little probing she had tried with both parties she wasn't going to find out either. There was no argument, no difference of opinion or dislike of character that she could tell, yet Brandon had decided to keep a distance to Marianne. He wasn't being distant with herself or Edward and he was still friendly enough with Marianne but something was amiss. Elinor was not keen on the kind of plotting Sir John and Mrs Jennings were into, trying to marry people off, but in this case she might just have to make an exception and talk to the Middletons and Mrs Jennings about the seating arrangements at the wedding.

Meanwhile, Brandon knew Marianne would be maid of honour and understood that this would mean they would need to work together to make the wedding day go smoothly for Edward and Elinor. A part of him was overjoyed at the thought of spending some more time with Marianne, but another part was just about dreading it. Not because he wouldn't enjoy her company but for that very reason: he would so enjoy her company that not being able to admit it to her and even hope that she would feel the same way was pulling his heart to shreds. What he wouldn't do to be able to hold her close? To spend time with her alone talking about anything and everything like he knew he was always happy to do when there weren't too many people around. But perhaps that joy was not meant for the likes of him? Perhaps the universe had tried to teach him a lesson when he had first fallen in love as a young lad. And he had been young. Not out of his teens yet but absolutely certain of his feelings. Those feelings had been real, then, and learning with age that perhaps it had been more of a young heart's infatuation than fully rounded love did not mean he would change his loyalties or not be true to any promises he had made. To her or himself. What he now felt for Marianne was, no doubt, related to the infatuation he had felt then, but it was also so much more. And if he thought he had hurt when he was not allowed to marry his first love, he did not know what to call this agonizing torment that was tearing his soul now when he looked at Marianne and worried that when she found her feet again she might not want him in her life at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 3

Edward was fidgeting by the altar. He had been fidgeting all morning and not even a sip from Brandon's hip flask had really calmed his demeanour.

"The love of your life is about to walk over and tell you and everyone here that she wants to spend her life with you, why does that make you so nervous?" Brandon had asked when they had been getting ready at Barton earlier.

"I think it's just that, the whole life thing." Edward had answered. Brandon had looked a little astonished. Wasn't it a little late to start questioning your willingness to commit to relationship?

"I don't mean it like that!" Edward had gasped in exasperation.

"What I mean is, really, how can I ask her to tie herself to me like this? What if she grows tired of me?"

It was at this point that the Colonel's hip flask had come out.

"She loves you, Ferrars, I can see it in everything that she is and does. And you love her. How can you not want to ask her to tie herself to you when you know that is how she truly feels? There are no real certainties or guarantees, that's probably true, but I'm quite certain the odds here are in the favour of your marrying her. It is absolutely certain that you would both be miserable without each other."

Edward was astounded at Brandon's speech for two reasons. Firstly, his logic made odd sense. The little bit of uncertainty he felt over whether he would really be able to keep Elinor happy for the rest of her days was a much better choice than the full certainty that they simply would not be happy at all if they were not together. The other thing that astounded him was that he was not quite sure if he'd ever heard Brandon make a statement that long and absolutely not on such a topic. Edward then remembered they were alone in the room and Brandon wasn't at all as reserved in such settings as he was in larger company.

"Thank you, Brandon," Edward had simply said. But he hadn't stopped fidgeting. He was now thinking ahead to becoming a husband and the duties that entailed. The word made him laugh: duties. What could bring a man more joy than embracing the wife he loved? And so he was nervous again: what was a man supposed to do.

"Now what?" Brandon had asked. Edward sighed in despair.

"Sometimes I so wish my father hadn't died when he did. I don't think he quite got to explain how the world works to me. Not enough, anyways. I mean, after the wedding, and the reception: I'm already bursting with joy thinking about going to our home together with Elinor, but then what?" Edward was pacing the room at this point and his borderline panic made Brandon smile at the younger man.

"I'll not offer you the advice my father gave my brother and myself for I have since learned that he was quite wrong. But would you like me to share with you the few things I have managed to learn about the 'then what' part?" Brandon offered. He wasn't quite sure why he was offering to talk about this, but it had to be something rather endearing about his young friend's discomfort.  
>"Would you?" Edward asked, almost begging.<p>

Brandon sighed, not quite sure how to phrase it all. He had left home a bitter young man who had been denied what he thought then the love of his life. There was to be no true love left for him anywhere so he might as well take his pleasure with ladies of lesser repute. He had been lucky to meet one who took pity on a hurt young lad and didn't laugh at him. She had also talked a bit of sense into him before irreversibly made a complete arse of himself.

"What I know, basically, is that when it comes to…erm… intimacy, women appreciate just that: intimacy. It's between her and you and it is your duty to learn what she likes and show her in your every action how much you care and respect her. The joy and release is best when shared." Brandon practically muttered, struggling to find reasonable wording for what he was trying to convey. The younger man would simply have to work it out from there. In all honesty, that was the extent of Brandon's knowledge. He had been saved from himself by a kind soul who had herself lost a chance to live within the so-called better society but who had not lost the civilized and caring soul she had.

Edward had nodded in silent agreement that this was probably about as much as he was prepared to talk about this particular topic, and continued pacing. And later in the day, standing in the chapel, he kept fingering his cuffs and wiping his palms onto his trousers in his nervousness. Yet, the moment Elinor's silhouette appeared against the daylight of the open chapel door the fidgeting stopped. Brandon smiled: he had half expected this to happen. Edward was simply nervous about the procedure, the public display he and Elinor had to take part in. The moment she was with him all doubts and fears disappeared and Edward knew exactly why he was standing where he was.

Elinor had no one to give her away. Her brother had made some poor excuses for why he and his wife could not make it to Barton just that time, but as much had been expected after all the fuss that had been made over Edward becoming an outcast to his own family. Se walked in with her sister just a step behind her shoulder and Edward was not the only one whose breath caught and heart missed a beat. Brandon lost track of the man he was supposed to be supporting here when he saw Marianne walking down the aisle with Elinor. Not that he paid all that much attention to Elinor either. Marianne had a new dress, in colours that were picked to match the highlights and decorations in Elinor's dress.

Very tasteful, overall, Brandon thought, but what really made his heart leap was seeing Marianne wearing a genuine smile. An expression of happiness for her sister really radiated from her and could be seen in her eyes as well. She looked as much as herself as he had seen in months: beautiful inside and out.

For just a few fleeting moments Brandon allowed himself the luxury of picturing a day when he would be standing in Edward's place and it was Marianne approaching him down the aisle. Should that day ever come, it would be when her eyes would sparkle like that more often than not and when he knew that they sparkled for him as he was.

Brandon was oblivious to it, but he was not alone with his thoughts. Two steps behind her sister's shoulder, Marianne had seen the Colonel, in his red tunic standing behind Edward. What had she ever thought thinking he was plain? He was attractive beyond description. Edward was the groom but as far as Marianne was concerned it was Colonel Brandon whose presence filled the chapel. Did she have a weak spot for men in uniform? She didn't think so, and this had to mean she simply had a weak spot for Colonel Brandon in uniform. Then, in one amazing moment time stopped when Marianne's eyes met Brandon's. Brandon got caught in her eyes and was not able to break the contact. Marianne felt the contact immediately and absolutely did not want to break it: he was not indifferent after all! But then the moment passed, he averted his eyes and focused on the ceremony leaving Marianne full of questions.

After the ceremony the wedding party moved to Barton. Marianne and Colonel Brandon escorted the newlyweds to their carriage, and Brandon once again could not help himself but daydreamed for a fraction of a moment when he found himself walking out of the chapel next to Marianne behind the happy couple. He wanted to extend his arm to her and be her escort. Brandon expected to be taking a carriage to Barton with the Middletons, but suddenly found himself being ushered, by Sir John, into one of the small carriages where Mrs Jennings had already organized the remaining Dashwood sisters to sit.

Brandon climbed in, seeing he was in no position to argue and make a fuss, and helped Mrs Dashwood on board as well. The carriage took off and he found himself seated opposite Marianne, next to Mrs Dashwood. Marianne smiled a little, then averted her eyes to the side, blushing. "What was that all about?" Brandon wandered. Miss Margaret and Mrs Dashwood were talking about the ceremony and how lovely it had all been and Brandon had to work overtime to move his focus from Marianne alone to listen what Mrs Dashwood and Miss Margaret were saying. Was Marianne struggling like he was? Brandon wondered but was glad to have cocked his ear to the conversation as he was suddenly drawn in by Margaret.

"Edward looked very nervous, was he?" Margaret asked. Edward was still a very special friend to her, like a wonderful big brother, really. Brandon let out a light laugh. Edward had been so obvious.

"Yes, I'm afraid he was quite nervous. But only until Elinor stepped in, mind," he said. With that he had to steal another look at Marianne. How he longed to tell her about his own feelings when he had seen her enter behind her sister!

"What about Elinor, Marianne, was Elinor nervous?" Margaret asked. Marianne seemed to snap out of her timid shell and laughed. She thought about Elinor fretting with her dress and her flowers and everything possible.

"Yes, she was nervous, too."

"How strange," mused Margaret. When the others looked at her with hopes for an explanation, she continued:

"Well, everyone knows they're terribly in love with each other and have been waiting to be together for such a long time already, and when it's time to get married so that they could finally be together, they're both nervous."

The others laughed warm-heartedly at this. Margaret's summaries of what grown-ups did were often accurate and insightful.

"Well, that's probably why they were a bit nervous," Brandon offered, and continued:

"To finally achieve and receive something you have so longed for is a momentous occasion and changes your life forever. It would be super-human not to be a little nervous, don't you think?"

Marianne's eyes were like glued onto Colonel Brandon when he talked. The man radiated peace and tranquillity and safety and warmth and, dare she even think of it, desire. Mrs Dashwood saw how Marianne looked at the man sitting next to her, and once again scalded herself for being so easily fooled by the man's character. She had, through it all, liked Brandon well enough, but had been sucked into the frivolous air of fun that Mr Willoughby brought with him. And all the time it was Colonel Brandon who had the strength of character and the kind of loyalty and sense of honour a true gentleman was made of. Mrs Dashwood had also began to appreciate that the man was actually quite charming when he was given the opportunity to be so, never mind quite attractive, too.

Mrs Dashwood had been in on the seating arrangements for the wedding breakfast and already anticipate the positive steps that may come from Sir John, Mrs Jennings and herself agreeing that somehow Colonel Brandon and Marianne would be seated next to each other, opposite the newlyweds. Upon arrival Brandon helped his companions off the carriage, working as hard as he could not to take advantage of the small opportunity he had to touch Marianne. He took her by the hand, just like he had Miss Margaret and Mrs Dashwood, and helped her step down. She was fine stepping down, but Brandon had still been tempted to take hold of her by her waist to stop her from tripping. How pathetic, he scalded himself.

The small wedding party filed in in their carriages one after another to Barton where champagne was served. Edward and Elinor had slipped into one of the smaller rooms for a moment to catch their breath and to have a moment alone, and when they stepped out to join everyone, they were received with cheers and hurrah calls with congratulations and many toasts. The party was perhaps small, but it was a happy and friendly gathering without too much pompous posing, which made both Edward and Elinor very happy. What a joyous day!


	4. Chapter 4

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 4

Brandon thought he was perhaps sitting next to a roaring fire, but that was just a telling tale of how his heart was affecting his body. He was sitting next to Marianne. There was plenty of chatter, toasting, speeches and what have you to hold his attention, seemingly, otherwise, but there was not a moment when he was not aware of her presence by his side. Here and there they even talked to each other and when they did the way she smiled at him really shook him to the foundations. To him it felt like it was more than friendly, that she was engaging him at a level that was not accessible to others and every look and smile was a private conversation of its own. Could it be? He did not dare hope and was certain that it was still too early for her to make an informed decision about what kind of a friend he might be to her.

She hadn't been visiting people or been to gatherings beyond Barton since her recovery so it just wasn't possible, in Brandon's view, for her to know what company would appeal to her most. With all the lively talk and laughter at the table Brandon failed to notice he and Marianne were both under heavy scrutiny. Sir John, Lady Middleton, Mrs Dashwood and even the newlyweds whom you' expect to notice only each other were taking note of how Brandon and Marianne got on. Sir John smiled to himself when he noticed the slight blushing on Marianne's cheeks whenever Brandon turned to talk to her. He also noticed how long his friend would get stuck just watching the young woman next to him when he thought she wouldn't notice.

Meanwhile, Marianne was at a loss at what was going on. Her attraction towards Colonel Brandon had grown exponentially ever since he started to visit Barton Cottage. They'd agreed to be friends, but then he had started to pull away and the only explanation she could think for it was that he no longer was interested in her the way everyone told her he had been when they first met. Not the way she thought he was based on what Elinor had told her about his actions and behaviour during her illness. And now, today, he had been more his usual self: perfectly charming in his quiet sort of way, attentive (to everyone, not just her), and good company. The few looks they had shared made her tremble.

When their friendship had been developing after her illness, she had had an inkling of the possibility that there could be more between them. The better she felt the more certain she had become of this possibility and since he had stopped coming Marianne had come to realize there had been some threshold between friendship and more, and she had clearly stepped over it. She missed Brandon's presence when he wasn't near, she longed for his attention and she dreamt of him feeling the same way. If only she could make him understand that his attention really was not unwelcome!

"What an idiot I am!" Marianne then thought to herself. Wedding breakfast over, the guests were socializing amongst themselves, everyone taking their turn wishing Elinor and Edward the happiest future, Colonel Brandon had disappeared entirely. So much for her sensing that perhaps they were finding a connection – the curious man had left as soon as he could! What would Marianne do about her realization? The one that made her call herself an idiot? She was one, after all: how could Brandon possibly approach her as a man instead of a friend of the family if he might still be under the impression that she had no interest in him at all? Who could even hint of such a thing to him if not Elinor, and Marianne had not been particularly open about her developing feelings to Elinor either. And really, she had not had a chance to reciprocate any such query from him as there had not been one. Everything she knew of the possibility that Brandon perhaps could be interested had been second hand from Elinor after that time when Marianne so rudely had brushed him off in favour of Willoughby.

"I must talk to him. I must." Marianne thought. It was no good sitting around waiting and hoping, she'd have to indicate to him somehow that being friends was all well and good, but that his friendship was becoming so very special and important to her. If he thought she was still indifferent about him, why would he chance approaching her?

Elinor spotted her sister scanning the rooms, looking for someone.

"Have you lost someone?" Elinor asked as she approached Marianne, leaving Edward with some of the gentlemen.

"Colonel Brandon, surely he hasn't left yet?" Marianne pondered, looking quite frustrated.

"I think I saw him go to that study at the end of the hall way," Elinor helped. Marianne's face lifted with relief.

"You seem to have something important on your mind?" Elinor suggested. She was overjoyed with finally being married to her dear Edward, but that had not stopped her from seeing also Brandon's face when he had stood there by the altar with Edward and it hadn't taken much of a guess who he was looking at when his gaze clearly bypassed her and landed on the person right behind her.

"Yes. Elinor, I think I've realized something, and then I realized that Brandon should know about it or else he'll think I'm still…." Marianne couldn't quite find the words.

"Not keen?" Elinor helped with a knowing smirk. Marianne stared at her.

"Oh come on, Marianne. You don't think I've seen you look at him, blush when he talks to you?" Elinor decided it was time to face some facts. Marianne sighed.

"It's taken me forever, but it's just somehow washed over me recently how I wish to spend time with him and he hasn't been around. That sort of thing." She shrugged.

"Go find him then, dearest." Elinor said with a smile and gave her a gentle push towards the hallway. Edward had meanwhile been released from the gentleman company and came over just to catch the end of the conversation.

"Find who? Something going on I should know about?" he asked Elinor, lacing his fingers into hers, then lifting her hand to his lips.

"Oh, Marianne and Brandon. Everyone, well, except Marianne, can see Brandon is keen on Marianne, and Marianne's only now apparently realizing she feels the same way. And she was supposed to be the romantic, emotional one!" Elinor laughed. Edward laughed as well.

"Have you worked out why he's keeping away? You'd think a man would jump at an opportunity to court a girl under these circumstances." Edward wondered. Elinor thought about what he said and the word 'opportunity' somehow rang wrong in the context of Colonel Brandon.

"You might be right, dearest, if it was just about any other man but our dear Colonel. But think about it: would he really take advantage of the situation like that? Marianne was poorly and we know, though she won't admit to it, that she's not been keen on meeting new people or to have much company at all. She got slapped on the wrists by the hardest with that awful Willoughby and was basically rescued and saved by Brandon. Not just when he found her in the rain but by uncovering Willoughby's actions. I think what Marianne felt for him earlier was mostly gratefulness and I wouldn't be surprised if a man with Brandon's sensitivities sensed that. He wouldn't take advantage of that, I'm sure."

Edward wanted to kick himself: Elinor was perfectly right.

"You're absolutely right there, my dear," he said. Another aspect to the situation came to his mind as well.

"It just also occurred to me that our friend Brandon has received the cold shoulder from Marianne before. He might just be a little cautious with her now, don't you think?" Edward suggested. Elinor nodded. Brandon was not the type to take these matters lightly and once burned he would be careful not to expose himself too easily again.

Edward and Elinor then caught sight of Marianne again. Her shoulders were slumped and there was sadness in her eyes though she did try and put on a reasonably unaffected face for the people who were still at the reception. She walked straight to her sister and her husband. The sight of them together cheered Marianne up immediately, albeit she was not able to forget the reason for feeling a little blue for a moment.

"What is it, dearest?" Elinor asked straight away. Marianne sighed.

"Sorry to be moping like this, it's your happy day and I shouldn't have troubled you with any of this…" Marianne started.  
>"Never mind that now, what is it?" Elinor encouraged her. She felt for her sister and wanted to help her along, but nothing could dent the happiness she felt today. The thought of finally being married to Edward gave her a sense of happiness that ran like an unbreakable chord through her very core. She would be able to talk about her sister's issues and still enjoy her day for sure.<p>

"Colonel Brandon's gone. He's not in the house and I went to the stables and his horse is gone, too."

With her free hand Elinor took Marianne's hand and gave it a squeeze. Poor girl had worked her courage up to talk to Brandon but was so deflated now that she wouldn't be able to.

"There will be another opportunity, I'm sure," Elinor tried to cheer her up.

"I hope so – I feel such an idiot and I'm so afraid he's grown tired of me." Marianne said in a small voice. Edward felt he should pitch in:

"Elinor's right, I'm sure you'll see him soon again. And I'm sure you don't have to worry about him being tired of you."

Marianne gave the couple a small smile, then gave herself a shrug so as to snap out of her gloom. This was Elinor's day, and Edward's, and she was not going to bring the mood down. She gave them both a wide smile.

"Alright, I trust you are both correct. Now, will there be dancing at this wedding?"


	5. Chapter 5

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 5

Albeit very inexperienced in horsemanship, the Ferrars had taken great care in learning the ropes when it came to their most fabulous wedding present: the horse and carriage Brandon had given them.

"What good is a clergyman to his parish if he can't get about," Brandon had muttered, slightly embarrassed by the overwhelming 'thank yous' both Edward and Elinor were pouring at him. One of Brandon's stable hands had made regular visits showing Edward what to do and now, two weeks after the wedding, the happy couple felt confident enough to hop on their little carriage on their own and make the short journey to Delaford to greet their amazing benefactor. The distance between their parish house and Delaford itself was perhaps just a little too much on foot, but with a horse it was no distance at all.

Brandon was working with his own horses when they arrived. They spotted the stable hand, Tom, who had been helping them.

"Sir, Ma'am, Colonel Brandon is in the enclosure behind the stables if you'd like to go see him there" Tom informed Edward and Elinor. It wasn't too hard to find. Tom took their horse and carriage and Edward and Elinor walked over to the enclosure. As they got closer, they saw Brandon there, without his coat, looking rather impressive only in his shirt and waistcoat. In the enclosure with him was a young stallion. The Ferrars were immediately fascinated: they both could see they were witnessing something that most people would not be invited to see. There was no one else around and in the enclosure, which wasn't small, there was only the Colonel and the horse.

The Ferrars, as if they'd agreed on this beforehand, stopped talking and slowed their own pace to match that of the Colonel's in the enclosure. Brandon was a good distance away from there and seemed not to have notice the couple at all. Silently Elinor an Edward settled by the fence and careful not to move at all they simply stood there, watching the Colonel and the horse.

The horse was clearly unbroken. It tried to keep a distance to the Colonel yet at the same time seemed to be drawn to the man. It paced around, taking the occasional spurt as if not sure what he was expected to do. The Colonel, on the other hand, simply stood there, only moving enough to mirror the horse's position so that he never faced the creature. He never looked at it and made all gestures to appear as if he wasn't even interested in the horse – yet he inched his way towards the sweating, pacing animal little by little.

It didn't take long for the other shoe to drop for Elinor. "So this is what he's been doing all this time with Marianne!" she thought to herself. She turned to look at Edward and in the look they shared they saw how they had both reached the same conclusion. The taciturn Colonel had pulled away from the girl he wanted, but kept nearby to see if she would then be drawn to him at her own volition! Edward and Elinor smiled at each other. The older man's ploy had worked, as they well knew. Marianne had as much as admitted her feelings for the Colonel at their wedding but for Brandon's early departure.

As far as Elinor knew, the two had not had contact since then. Sir John, Lady Middleton, and Mrs Jennings had brought Marianne with them on a brief visit to the parish house a week ago or so and Marianne had put on a brave face in front of all the suggestive queries that had been flying about in the garden. She later confessed to Elinor, when they were along, that she had hoped Colonel Brandon might have been there as well. Elinor didn't quite know what to do. A part of her wanted to assure dear Brandon that she had it from the horse's mouth that Marianne had developed feelings for him, but at the same time another part of her knew the Colonel would not be easily persuaded. He would somehow need to see and learn this for himself.

After another half hour in the enclosure the young stallion had stopped pacing and seemed to have given up. It simply stood there, not holding its head so high and clearly not so wary of the man so close to it. Brandon approached the animal more boldly now, but still keeping his eyes averted and making it look like he was just by mere accident moving slowly to the direction where the horse was, not really trying to get to the horse at all. And there, eventually he was: standing by the horse, giving it gentle strokes on the neck, still not looking at the creature directly and to Elinor it looked like he was perhaps talking to the animal some now. Some time more and Brandon was gently rubbing the creature's head. Then he left it be, gently and slowly moving away from it. Not turning his back on the horse, but still not looking at it straight either.

"Oh hello," he greeted Elinor and Edward once he was further away from the horse and had started to walk away from the enclosure at a more normal pace. As if he snapped out of the trance like state he was in when getting closer to his horse.

"Hello Colonel – that was amazing to see," Elinor greeted her friend. Edward nodded as well.

"In deed, I must say, with all the horses we had in the family I've never seen anything like this. Very impressive."

Brandon gave them a weary smile and gestured towards the house. Walking there with him Elinor could tell the horse was not the only one tired after that session.

"We'll not keep you today my dear Brandon, we only came to see how you were and to show off with what we've learned from Tom," Elinor explained. Brandon smiled again, more broadly this time.  
>"I'm glad you're getting the hang of it. You really must have some form of transport at your disposal. But surely you'll stay for something to drink, it's such a warm day after all," Brandon insisted.<p>

Once in the house, lemonade was brought in and the three sat down.

"Also, I was going to bring this to you tomorrow, but I might as well give it to you now," Brandon started, getting on his feet again to pick something up from a small table.

"Sir John wants another small gathering at Barton. The Palmers are coming and they have some relative with them they need to entertain and show around a bit and you have been invited as well." Brandon gave the invitation to Edward.

"Thank you, we'll be happy to come. Especially now that we are fully mobile ourselves." Edward responded. He knew his wife was itching to know this as much as he was so he had to ask:

"Do you know who else will be there?"

"I think Mrs Dashwood and both Miss Dashwoods have been invited as well, but beyond that I'm afraid I do not know."

Elinor looked at him carefully when he explained this. The man was working hard at keeping an impassionate face but Elinor was certain she saw something there when he mentioned her sisters. Looking at the invitation, if Brandon did not visit Barton and Barton Cottage before Saturday week, there was a chance of getting him and Marianne together at the gathering then. Surely something would have to develop then. Elinor and Edward soon made their way back out and collected their horse from Tom. All the way home Elinor kept thinking about what she'd seen by the enclosure and how she now knew for certain that Marianne and Brandon would have to come together at some point. Any idiot could see that. Any, except for the two idiots in question.


	6. Chapter 6

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 6

Marianne didn't know if she was looking forward to the evening or if she wanted to run away. Anticipation and panic at the same time was a strange feeling and she could not tell which one was winning. She was going, with her mother and Margaret, to Barton again for some dinner do, and Mrs Jennings had made sure she understood that Colonel Brandon was expected to be there as well. She did want to see him, but what if he was indifferent towards her again, could she bear it?

They hadn't seen him since the wedding and taking into account how happily he had seemed to have been spending time months and months ago, Marianne was very much starting to fear that the man had gone off them. He'd done his duty and more. Been civil to them, looked after them in the manner someone who had become as closely acquainted as he had at the time would be expected to and more, but perhaps he had seen that after seeing his friend (yes, everyone knew Elinor and Colonel conversed at a very special level with each other) married to the man he had seen decent and honourable enough to give his parish to, he had done his bit and it was time to distance himself from the rest of the Dashwoods. The very thought of Christopher Brandon talking to her at accidental meetings at dinners and parties or such like a mere distant acquaintance brought tears to Marianne's eyes. It could not come to that, not if she had anything to do with it!

At Barton Mr and Mrs Palmer had arrived with a guest of theirs: Mr Palmer's young cousin Mr Fitzwilliam. Neither Sir John nor Lady Middleton had been entirely sure who Mr Palmer's relative was, apart from knowing the name and that he was a younger cousin. When the Palmers arrived with their guest, Sir John soon seemed to start breathing a little too heavily and lost a little of his usual healthy outdoorsy colour on his face.

"John, what is the matter?" Lady Middleton asked when they had a moment for a private word. Sir John looked around, making sure there were no extra ears too near him.

"That boy, Fitzwilliam. He's being rather open about touring his relatives to meet new people and perhaps a nice young lady," Sir John hissed. Lady Middleton was not sure what this meant and expressed her question with her eye browse: "And?"

"Can't you see? The Dashwoods are coming, meaning Miss Marianne as well, and I've made sure Brandon could not refuse coming. I was hoping those two could perhaps pick up from where they left off at the wedding!" he almost could not keep his voice down.

"That Fitzwilliam lad is going to monopolize our pretty Miss Marianne the moment she walks in the door and you know how Brandon will be. That man simply will not take part in an open competition for a lady's attentions and he'll walk away. Again. Gods it took me days and days of coaxing him all that time ago that he shouldn't give up on the idea of Miss Marianne simply because Willoughby showed up. Now it's going to be the same all over again!" Sir John fretted.

"But John, wouldn't that require that Miss Marianne would give her attention to Mr Fitzwilliam too?" Lady Middleton asked. She wasn't sure that Marianne would be that light hearted anymore. The girl had been so much more withdrawn of late, almost to the point that she worried Marianne mightn't even attract any attention from young men anymore. That awful brother, Mr Dashwood, had as much as said it quite bluntly: Marianne was a mere shadow of her self and not very pleasing to even look at anymore. Lady Middleton did not agree about the girl's looks, but her outlook on the world had definitely changed.

"You are right, my dear. But I am still worried that the young man will not give her a chance to ignore him." Sir John sighed.

Sir John had arranged a ride for the Dashwoods, who arrived next. If only Brandon had come before them Sir John reckoned he could have prepared the man for the potential competition for Miss Marianne's attention, but that was next to impossible now. No sooner than entering the room and having been introduced, Sir John's fears became reality: young Fitzwilliam spotted a pretty girl about the right age for him and latched on like a barnacle. Certainly, the young man maintained good enough manners to socialize with the whole party, but he also made sure not to be very far from Marianne for very long, ever.

Lady Middleton now shared her husband's worry: that rather dim-witted young man was not leaving any space around the poor girl for anyone else to approach her! At one point she overheard her husband talk in a low voice with Mr Palmer.

"I'm sorry I didn't think of inviting more people, perhaps some other young lady," Sir John had started.

"What's wrong with Miss Marianne? My cousin seems quite taken by her…" Palmer had responded but stopped thinking aloud when he saw the meaningful way in which Sir John was arching his eyebrow.

"Who else are we expecting today?" Palmer asked.

"Mr and Mrs Ferrars are coming, as well as my dear friend Colonel Brandon," Sir John explained quietly.

Palmer nodded several times with a thoughtful look on his face. He hadn't thought of Colonel Brandon. How the man felt about the pretty Dashwood girl was no mystery to him, but since the matter hadn't come to anything in such a long time he had assumed it was over with and Marianne was an eligible young lady for an eligible gentleman to perhaps pursue.  
>"I'm sorry, my dear fellow, I was unaware that there was something, er… to be considered here…" he struggled to find words.<p>

"I didn't think Miss Marianne was spoken for…" he continued. Sir John tapped Palmer on the shoulder reassuringly.

"You're not entirely wrong there, dear Palmer. She isn't exactly spoken for, but I'm afraid Colonel Brandon is not someone who will ever take these matters lightly and quite frankly it's taken quite an effort to try and encourage him not to give up on the girl. See, her heart does not shift very lightly these days either. She was cut too deep with that Willoughby business. These two do not move quite at the usual pace, is the only way I can describe the situation, and I've tried to bring the two together under my roof as often as possible." Sir John explained. He was hoping Palmer might be able to help him distract young Fitzwilliam away from Marianne when Brandon arrived.

"I see. Well, I suppose we shall have to see what happens when the Colonel arrives, but I'm afraid much is depending on the girl, too." Palmer responded, his voice as low as Sir John's. Palmer liked Brandon. The man wasn't obsessed with idle chatter and making appearances, but by golly when action was needed he would deliver. Brandon was a level-headed sensible and loyal type of a man. He could also understand how Brandon was the type who seemed calm and cool on the surface but whose emotions ran deep. Palmer was not particularly keen on his younger cousin and, in all honesty, the boy had rather been shoved upon him by another cousin. Inviting themselves to Barton had just been a quick thought on their part to come up with some programme and distraction so that they could, perhaps, pass the boy on to some other relative as soon as possible. Palmer realized that should Fitzwilliam in any way do something to make Brandon give up on Miss Marianne, he would feel like he had delivered a low blow and a grave insult to the Colonel himself personally. That would not do.

Sir John kept an eye on the approach to his house from the window. Brandon and the Ferrars should be there any moment and Sir John wanted to make sure the first thing Brandon saw was Fitzwilliam monopolizing Marianne. His plan was quite simple: the moment he got a whiff of Brandon approaching, he'd ask, beg and plea with Marianne that she should entertain the party with a song or two. He did not know her to decline a tenacious request. He remembered well when Brandon had first met the Dashwoods. A nice piece of social engineering on Sir John's part that, even if he said so himself. Too bad that Willoughby had got in the way.

Although, in all honesty, the way the girl was at the time it wasn't probably written in the stars that she'd have paid poor Brandon the right kind of attention anyways. Her head was in clouds then and her romantic notions were somewhat beyond realities of life. Endearing as it all was, it was probably true that even without Willoughby, Colonel Brandon would have been in for a very long ride until the girl would have noticed his true qualities. But Brandon had been sold the moment his eyes landed on the girl that afternoon. Or even sooner, when he heard her! Sir John had no trouble reading the normally so reserved younger man when he stood in the doorway then: seemingly just standing there, looking and listening and not wanting to interrupt, but somehow quite clearly not believing his eyes and ears.

Perhaps Sir John would be able to arrange something of that sort tonight? He was sure he had most people in on his little conspiracy to make those two hurt souls see each other the right way. To have the scales drop from their eyes and admit the inevitable that everyone else was already seeing. He could see Marianne was not impressed with young Fitzwilliam's presence, she was perfectly polite and long suffering when – judging from what Sir John was able to make out of the conversation – the boy was talking about nothing but shooting. Sir John enjoyed a good shoot as much as the next man, but even he knew that was probably not the way to gain the attention of a young lady.

Finally a carriage and a rider on horseback approached the house.

"Miss Marianne," Sir John cut in on Fitzwilliam's monologue, putting on his loopiest persona so as not to appear rude, just a little scattered.

"We haven't heard you pay or sing in such a long time, and I was just saying to Lady Middleton there how lovely it would be if you could grace us with a tune? Would you?"

Marianne looked around at a series of expectant faces. How had this request come upon her so suddenly?

"Oh, yes please, would be so lovely? You have such talent." Lady Middleton joined in and Mrs Jennings nodded her head enthusiastically for she too had spotted the party approaching the house. She had also had time to observe poor Marianne practically squirming in the boy's company and would probably be grateful for the little breather anyways. Palmer saw it was his moment to try and pull Fitzwilliam to one side.

"Yes, that would be so lovely. Now, Fitzwilliam, why don't you come and sit here with us, Miss Marianne is an excellent singer."

Marianne felt she was being a little slow on the up-take: what was going on here? It wasn't unusual that the Middletons would ask her to play, but there was something odd about all of this. When she heard Mr Palmer pull that Mr Fitzwilliam aside, her suspicions were confirmed: Mr Palmer would never do anything like that under normal circumstances. Marianne caught Mrs Jennings's eye and the older woman gave her an encouraging nod with a knowing smile, then giving a fleeting glance at Mr Fitzwilliam being guided to a seat away from the piano forte. Marianne's eyebrow's shot up: they were letting her get away from the increasingly irritating young man!

Even if it came with the price of having to provide the entertainment for a while, Marianne could not help but be grateful for the respite she was offered. If Brandon was not here, nor Elinor and Edward, she would have very little to keep her sane through the afternoon and the evening. Particularly if that Mr Fitzwilliam kept stalking her the entire time. She was uncomfortable with him, to say the least. It wasn't that he seemed dishonest or too forward or anything else directly untoward, but his eagerness to find a young lady to court was so plain and obvious. As if it didn't matter who the young lady was, so long as she wasn't too ugly (Marianne assumed) and would be reasonably willing. The thought of ever even passing polite greetings with the boy gave her the shivers. Her resolve over one fact that she had learned was only made stronger with all this: she needed to see Colonel Brandon and have an honest and open talk with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 7

Sir John's careful operation to get Marianne at the piano forte by the time Colonel Brandon walked into the house was carried out practically with military precision: Marianne was in the middle of the first verse and already completely immersed in the song when Brandon and the Ferrars stepped in. Mrs Jennings could hardly breath as she observed Brandon's reactions: just like that time ages ago the man stopped in the doorway and was oblivious to the rest of the room. All he noticed was the girl at the piano.

Brandon was, indeed, as if struck down by a ton of bricks when he had entered the house, hearing Marianne singing. The memory of seeing her for the very first time was crystal clear in his memory and it hadn't taken him a fraction of a second to identify the voice as Marianne's. The Ferrars had been chatting something as they were walking in, but upon hearing the music and seeing Brandon just about freeze in his footsteps for a moment they instinctively fell quiet. Brandon walked as quietly as he could to the doorway into the room where the music was coming from and stopped there, not being able to help himself. She was so beautiful and the way she delivered the music touched him deeply. They shared a love for music and had played together once or twice at Barton cottage but Brandon found it so impossible to concentrate on playing decently when sitting next to the girl that he had decided it more prudent to decline the duets and rather listen to her play.

Breathing was difficult, watching her like this, when all he wanted was to go sit next to her and confess his true feelings once and for all. At the wedding he had used up all his resolve not to break down in front of her and everyone else and had left rather abruptly before it had all become unbearable. He wanted to believe that the connection he felt for her was not his imagination, but at the same time he was so scared that it was.

Mrs Jennings was not the only one observing Colonel Brandon. Elinor's keen powers of observation did not miss a beat here and quietly she led Edward to the back row of seats that had been organized for the ad hoc concert. Sir John's smile was almost smug as he read his friend's face like an open book. This time, things would have to move on, surely! Then, the song came to an end and everyone applauded and complemented Marianne on a lovely recital. She turned with a light blush on her cheeks to thank everyone and then she saw him: Brandon was standing there, looking at her intently and their eyes met.

It was most unfortunate that Mr Palmer was not quite on his sharpest game and did not see how Mr Fitzwilliam had been preparing to pounce the moment the song was over to shower Miss Marianne with compliments and the very moment when Marianne's eyes met Brandon's, there was Fitzwilliam rushing and shoving himself next to Marianne on the piano seat, plying her with compliments and insisting that they should play a duet. The moment was shattered and Brandon felt like someone had just slapped him in the face.

Marianne tried to look past Fitzwilliam to catch Brandon's eye again, but the man had already collected himself and moved away. She saw him going over to Sir John to greet the hosts, managing to produce only the smallest of smiles. That smile did not reach his eyes and he seemed to be making sure he would not look towards the piano again. The way Fitzwilliam was it was impossible to decline his wish for a duet without forthright rudeness. Marianne would not insult her hosts that way and so they agreed upon a piece they both knew. Marianne pushed towards the shortest possible piece she could think of. How she longed to get rid of this imbecile! She had a sinking feeling Brandon may have taken the whole situation the wrong way.

Sir John had watched the whole scene with dread and now saw Brandon avoid even looking at Miss Marianne. Even Mr Palmer looked practically mortified for not managing to hold his cousin back. Brandon had sat down to listen to the duet, but was not really hearing it. He couldn't even look at Marianne right now. His heart had been so full of hope and a slither of optimism had crept into his soul when their eyes had met, but then it turned out there was someone else here for her! His reason was telling him it did not have to mean anything, but the younger man had approached her so…possessively! Had his reason not been so blinded by his insecurities he would not have turned away so quickly and he would have seen Marianne's desperation to look at him again and to get away from the young man, but as it was, Brandon was as good as kicked in the gut.

When they finished playing the piece Marianne was quick to jump up from the piano chair and excuse herself before Mr Fitzwilliam could suggest a second piece.

"Thank you, that was very nice, but I absolutely must talk to my sister Elinor now, I haven't seen her for ages," Marianne explained and hurried away. She scanned the room but Colonel Brandon had disappeared entirely Sir John seemed to be missing as well.

"Oh Elinor, how good it is to see you!" Marianne exclaimed as she embraced her dear sister. Elinor and Edward were standing with Mrs Dashwood and young Margaret.

"Marianne, why do you keep talking to that awful Mr Fitzwilliam?" Margaret interjected, tugging at her sister's sleeve. She hadn't been able to spend any time with Marianne today and everyone else there was old or boring. Or both!

"Oh, Margaret, I don't mean to but honestly, he will not leave me be!" Marianne exclaimed but managed to keep it a whisper so no one else outside the group heard her.

"So good to see you, Marianne, it's been very curious times getting used to living in a different house without all of you," Elinor said. It was true. She loved every minute of it. Every minute she could now spend alone with Edward and the peace and quiet and all the new things they both were learning and getting used to. It didn't mean she did not miss her sisters and her mother, though. It was just something she would get used to.

"You must tell me everything you have done with the house. Can I come and see you there sometime?" Marianne asked eagerly. She knew, of course, that she would visit, but for the time being it was up to Elinor to invite her over when she felt they could handle visitors.

"Of course you'll visit the moment the guest room is acceptable. And you too, Margaret and Mother. We can even come and collect you some time now: can you believe Colonel Brandon gave us a horse and a carriage as a wedding present!" Elinor explained excitedly. Margaret gasped in excitement and could hardly keep from bouncing up and down with the thought of her sister having her own horse.

"Isn't that just like him, though, don't you think?" Mrs Dashwood pondered. She, too, was wondering where the Colonel had disappeared to.

"Now, Marianne, there's someone we should have a little talk about," Elinor then said seriously. Marianne nodded: she had expected this. The sisters decided to take a turn around the room so they could talk more privately. Margaret huffed in frustration for being cast out of what was probably the most interesting conversation all day.

"I know you haven't seen Colonel Brandon since the wedding, but what I wanted to ask you is if you still feel the same way as you did then?" Elinor asked. Marianne's grip on her elbow tightened somewhat.

"Oh Elinor. I can't stop thinking about him and I hardly slept last night knowing he'd come here today. Mrs Jennings told me he was coming. Fancy that, I can see well how Mrs Jennings is playing the match maker again and giving me all those knowing smiles and nods but because it is him, I don't mind!" Marianne gave a small laugh. But the laugh lacked confidence.

"And what is this going on with that, what's his name, Fitzwilliam?" Elinor asked.

"Like I said, he seems to think I'm as keen on finding any partner as he is. He's not rude or untoward but he is rather on the dim side and I really could do without him in the room today. Now I'm terribly worried that his presence has pushed Colonel Brandon further away from me again."

Elinor thought for a moment.

"Yes, I saw how he reacted there. He is so cautious, that man. He's hurt before and will not leave himself open for it to happen again. That's why I'm asking if you still feel the same as you did then."

"I must talk to him today, somehow. I must ask him why he avoids me." Marianne explained. Before Elinor could say anything else, Mr Fitzwilliam had managed to wiggle loose from whomever it was that had most recently detained him. He had sensed his prey and would not let go of the lovely Miss Marianne before he'd get some confirmation from her that he would be accepted as a suitor.

At the same time in Sir John's library Brandon and Sir John were helping themselves to a drink rather more stiff than what was being served in the other room.

"What has got you so agitated my friend?" Sir John asked, though he had a good inkling to what it indeed was.

"I'm not agitated…" Brandon tried to deflect.

"Rubbish!" Sir John retorted faster than Brandon had time to react to. The older man made it abundantly clear he had Brandon and his state of mind sussed out.

"Look, Christopher, she sees no one in that room but you and that lad only gets away with hogging her company like that because no one has the temerity to make a scene and tell him not to in blunt enough terms. As far as the boy is concerned he thinks the world has been arranged so that he could try and find himself a bride." Sir John resorted to something he had not done for ages and only ever did when he needed the younger man to understand how serious he was: used the Colonel's first name.

"What makes you think she wouldn't be curious as well?" Brandon muttered between sips fro his tumbler of Scotch.

"It is plain as day for everyone who knows her, Brandon. The girl's whole being lights up in joy the moment she sees you. The way she looks back at you when you look at her leaves no question about it and it's high time you took a plunge and ask to court her properly. This tip-toeing has been going on long enough." Sir John was very firm now. He could see the uncertainty in Brandon, and the fear of being rejected.

"And what's the worst that can happen anyway? Would it be worse than what you're clearly going through right now?" Sir John asked.

Brandon did not answer for a while, just stared into the distance. Then he decided to voice his greatest fear:

"The worst that could happen is that she accepts me because I happened to be there when she was at her weakest, and after some time she will come to her senses and resent me forever."

He spoke so quietly Sir John could hardly hear him. Still, the genuine fear of losing Marianne's good opinion and appreciation, her love, was so poignant in his voice Sir John felt a stab in his heart too.

"You're just going to have to be brave, my friend, and trust what you've already learned about her. She may have become infatuated a little too easily with Willoughby but even then she never took her own feelings in the matter lightly." Sir John encouraged his friend.

A long sigh indicated that Brandon was unable to argue Sir John anymore. He would have to do something about this or he would lose his mind. He was sleeping little enough as it was and his waking hours were filled with longing for her at a scale had never known before. It was as if he was unable to breathe properly without her. He nodded at Sir John and put his glass down.

"In for a penny, in for a pound," he said to the older man and left the room.

In the parlour Marianne saw Fitzwilliam approach her and in her desperation to try and avoid the young man as long as possible she turned her back to him, pretending to look for someone. That very moment Brandon emerged from the library and their eyes found each other's. Suddenly Brandon was very grateful for that shot of Dutch courage he'd had in the library. His stomach seemed to do a crazy loop and what his heart was doing he could not rightly tell. And in that very moment a dark could took over his mood as well as he saw that young fellow approach Marianne and her sister who was still standing there. His eyes caught Marianne's again, but this time what he read there was clear: she was pleading for him to come over.

Elinor noticed her sister suddenly turn, then saw something akin to panic on her face. At that point Elinor became aware of Mr Fitzwilliam approaching and she realized Marianne was practically begging for someone to come and rescue them. When Elinor turned around she saw that someone was Colonel Brandon. "Right, now or never" Elinor thought to herself as she, too, fixed her eyes on the Colonel and with much less subtlety than her younger sister mouthed a silent "please, come."

"Ahh, Miss Marianne. And this must be your sister, Mrs Ferrars?" Mr Fitzwilliam's thin and far too carefully practiced voice was heard, and this time he had opted to come and stand far too close to Marianne. Too close for Brandon's liking.


	8. Chapter 8

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 8

If Brandon refused her now Marianne would be doomed. Was her awful brother right after all: she had lost any appeal she may have had before and would have to settle for anyone who was willing to have her, just so her mother's small income would not have to support her for the rest of her days! Rest of her days without Christopher Brandon. The thought was mortifying. Just as mortifying as the thought of having to tolerate someone like Mr Fitzwilliam for the rest of her days. "Oh Gods!" Marianne had time to think when Fitzwilliam made his approach. Too near. What would the party of people in the room think if she was to burst into tears right now and run out of the house screaming?

Marianne did not have time to think about that option for too long: with just a few determined strides Colonel Brandon had suddenly joined their little group, interrupting Fitzwilliam almost rudely.

"Miss Marianne, Mrs Ferrars, Miss Margaret," he greeted all the ladies in an almost too aloof sort of a way. All the ladies nodded and curtsied modestly in reply.

"I was wondering, Miss Marianne, if you would do me the honour and allow me to escort you to dinner later on?" Brandon asked, coolly ignoring the almost child-like expression on Fitzwilliam's face: the young man looked very much like a little boy whose sweet was just stolen from his grasp.

"But I was just going to…" Fitzwilliam started to protest. Who was this man who just strode in like that to reap the rewards for all the work he had put in in charming this Miss Marianne?

"Thank you, Colonel Brandon, I would love to. And I believe I am the one who should feel honoured." Marianne quickly answered before there was any doubt for anyone witnessing the exchange where her interest and loyalty resided.

"Sir, I don't know you but must insist that we exchange a few words," Fitzwilliam spat out indignantly. Elinor rolled her eyes and covered her brow under her hand so that she wouldn't show her embarrassment quite so openly. The younger man was going to make a scene.

Brandon's expression was as calm and neutral as it had been the entire time. Only those who had known him long enough were able to read the warning signs on the man's face and posture: the man who got things done, who would defend those dear to him at any cost, who did not step back or give in in front of disruptive behaviour was very much present. Young Fitzwilliam did not know whom he was throwing his challenge at.

"In deed," was Brandon's laconic response. He was not going to rise to the bait too easily and would only do what was necessary. Marianne had at this point taken hold of his arm as if ready to be escorted to the promised dinner table and Fitzwilliam's eyes darted from this man Brandon to Miss Marianne's grip on him.

"I do believe we had an understanding," Fitzwilliam addressed Marianne none too subtly. He really was starting to behave more and more like a spoilt child who had been denied his treat.

"Please forgive me, Mr Fitzwilliam, but there must be a misunderstanding. I only met you here today and I am unawares of any such promise made – I do apologize if I have given you reason to believe otherwise," Marianne tried to diffuse the situation but making it adamantly clear that she was not letting go of her Brandon. Not anymore. Fitzwilliam, however, was anything less than subtle.

"Sir, a word, please," he insisted with Brandon.

Brandon sighed. He really did not want to enter into some odd locking of horns with a foolish boy, but the said boy was not getting the message.

"Fine," Brandon said, and with his free hand took Marianne's hand that was still firmly around his forearm. Lifting the hand to his lips, giving her a gracious bow as his lips barely touched her hand he excused himself.

"Miss Marianne, Mrs Ferrars, Miss Margaret. I trust you will excuse us for a moment."

Mr Palmer had seen the way Fitzwilliam had headed towards the Dashwood sisters and had a bad feeling. He'd been thoughtless enough to bring the boy here and, despite wanting to feel like none of this was really any of his business, he did feel responsible for causing troubles with some of the few people he actually liked. Palmer made his way across the room as discreetly as possible to interject and reached the group at the moment when Brandon was making his excuses.

"Actually, I apologize most sincerely, but I must have a word with my cousin," Palmer stepped in.

"But…" Fitzwilliam started to protest.

"Really, Fitzwilliam, I must insist. It is extremely important that I have a word with you right now. Why don't we go into Sir John's study, eh?" Palmer cut in grabbing hold of his cousin's elbow and in no uncertain terms started to direct him away from the parlour.

Marianne realized she as standing there with her mouth open. It was like there was some great big operation going on in the room and she was a mere pawn to be moved and shifted around the board without much say at what she would do next.

"Colonel Brandon, Marianne, that was a little more than awkward, I must admit, and I could do with some air. Would you care to join me outside for a short moment?" Elinor said, taking hold of the situation. There had to be a way of letting her sister and the Colonel talk. She caught Edward's eye across the room and simply by glancing at the door she signalled where she was going. Edward nodded and started making the right noises in his present company to excuse himself for a dash of fresh air.

Brandon had a quizzical look on his face as he started to follow Elinor. Mrs Ferrars had not left the party any room to decline her request. Once thy had stepped outside into the garden Elinor made sure she was with Margaret (who naturally had not allowed herself to be left behind) and practically pushed Marianne to walk by Brandon's side. The man offered Marianne his arm and quietly they strolled deeper into the garden, further away from the windows. Edward joined Elinor and Margaret and the three made appearances of following the Colonel and Marianne, except at a suitable distance from the house quietly agreed on their little conspiracy and stopped where they would be able to see if anyone came after them from the house. It did seem quite certain that that Fitzwilliam would not be coming after them, but there had been too many unfortunate coincidences with these two for Elinor to take any chances.

Meanwhile, in Sir John's study, Sir John had the questionable pleasure of watching young Fitzwilliam squirm under Palmer's strict talking to. Most people would not have believed Palmer capable of commanding attention in such manner, but Sir John knew the man was not a waste of space in his work at the parliament. Palmer simply chose not to impose his drive too eagerly on his immediate family unless absolutely necessary.

"Where are your manners, young man?" Palmer had started. Fitzwilliam and looked most indignant at being talked to as if he was just a boy, but had not managed to get a word out. Only open and shut his mouth over an over.

"Any gentleman equipped with a reasonable brain would have picked up on the less than subtle message I was trying to pass on earlier when I directed you away from Miss Marianne, but not you." Palmer was not shouting, he never shouted, but there was no mistaking his serious tone. Fitzwilliam had caused his cousin embarrassment.

"But there were no other suitable young ladies present. Not even young gentlemen! I thought you had arranged this gathering today so that I was to meet Miss Marianne. And she didn't seem to mind my company. Frankly, I thought she was enjoying herself." Fitzwilliam go this voice back. Sir John had a sudden fit of cough at this point, nearly choking on the whisky he was sipping. He other two looked at him, but Palmer saw quickly his father-in-law was simply trying to cover for a fit of laughter.

"Enjoying? Good grief man, have you not heard of people being civil and polite? She was simply trying not to draw attention by dismissing you too harshly. But there was no dismissing you, was there?"

Fitzwilliam was starting at the floor now. He hadn't meant to be rude, of course not, and how he felt like a complete idiot.

"Then why didn't anyone tell me she was already spoken for?" he then said with a very small voice. He was genuinely sad. Miss Marianne had been the loveliest of all the girls he had met on his visits to various relatives and he, in all honesty, had had his hopes up. Palmer and Sir John both laughed. Not really at Fitzwilliam, and this left the younger man wonder what the inside joke was.

"You never realized what kind of a man you were so brashly challenging there, did you?" Palmer asked. Fitzwilliam said nothing, merely looked at his cousin and waited for him to continue.

"Colonel Brandon may seem unassuming and perhaps a little detached when it comes to gatherings like today, but those who know him know he has been keen on that girl for quite some time. It's been merely a series of unfortunate events that really have kept the Colonel from approaching Miss Marianne as a suitor. The truth is, he probably would have waited even longer had you not raised his heckles earlier." Sir John was still laughing when he thought about the determination he'd seen in Brandon's step earlier.

In the garden, Brandon and Marianne soon noticed the rest of their party ha dropped behind. They were still in their view but out of range of voice by now. The pair stopped and looked at each other, then opened their mouth at the same time:  
>"Miss Marianne, I…."<p>

"Colonel, I must…"

They stopped, still looking at each other in silence for a moment.

"Please, go ahead, " Brandon encouraged her.

"I was just saying that I must apologize if I somehow gave you a wrong impression of my acquaintance with Mr Fitzwilliam," she said quietly, now lowering her eyes to the ground.

"Please, Miss Marianne, you have done nothing to give me any impression…" Brandon started. How could he possible explain his reaction there? He continued:

"Any assumptions I may have made were all my own doing and, I must confess, brought on simply by the slightest notion of someone claiming your company so brashly." The Colonel's voice betrayed the insecurity nagging at his heart this very moment.

"To call it brash is correct. I came to Barton today hoping to see you and to… talk to you if you would give me the opportunity. Then suddenly I found I could not get away from Mr Fitzwilliam."  
>"To talk to me?"<p>

"Yes, if you don't find that objectionable." Marianne requested. Brandon shook his head to tell her he did not.

"It has also been my meaning to talk to you, Miss Marianne," Brandon then decided to confess, "but I would like to hear what you had in mind first."

Marianne looked at him again, and a faint smile crossed her face.

"I have been terribly worried that you have, perhaps, grown tired of my company of late. We…I used to see you more frequently before and for some time now it has been a rare occasion when we…, no I, have had the pleasure of your company. Have I done something to upset you?" There was nothing for it but to plunge in and have it all out.

The Colonel looked injured and alarmed.

"Oh, no. No, my dearest Marianne, you have done nothing to upset me. Quite the opposite! I have worried that I have been imposing my company on you too much. I have been selfish, just like that young man in there, demanding all your attention when you perhaps would have wished to find more cheerful company…" he was protesting in earnest now. He had never wanted her to feel like she had done something wrong. She let out a little nervous laugh.

"So we were worrying about the same thing?" she said. He laughed a little as well. Gods how did this situation make him feel like a bumbling idiot, like a schoolboy.

"The truth is, Colonel, that I have learned to enjoy your company immensely and through all the time we have been getting to know each other I find I respect and… admire you a great deal," Marianne really was getting into the thick of it now. Brandon found his breathing was turning more shallow and his heartbeat was not under his control in any way.

"Miss Marianne, it probably is no secret that I have nothing but the highest regard for you," he responded. Their eyes had once again found each other's and talking was difficult. Yet it had to be done. The tension was killing him.

"I cannot hold this in any longer, Marianne, and I hope I do not cause any offence. Should you reject now what I tell you, I may shatter to thousands of pieces, but I cannot hold it back any longer." Brandon was deadly serious now. Marianne did not even realize how she was holding her breath.

"For such a long time I have admired you, Miss Marianne, and have come to care for you in a way that goes beyond simple friendship and pleasant company. I have found such joy and solace in your company I cannot begin to describe how every time I see you warms my very soul. Yet, I cannot but be afraid that you cannot return such feelings and that I take too much of your time, perhaps even get in the way of someone more suitable to…" Brandon never got to finish expressing his fears for Marianne grabbed his hand.

"My dear Colonel, please, do not give any room for such thoughts! You could never be in the way or be unwanted company in any way. I… I have wanted to tell you as well how much I enjoy every moment I can spend with your and I can tell you that I do return your feelings. I was so afraid of having upset you somehow just when I did come to realize how much I, too, care."

The couple were in shock. Here they were, confessing their deep feelings for each other as much as it seemed possible without being too forward, and it turns out all the fears of the other not feeling the same way were unnecessary.

"Gods I feel useless trying to put these things into words…" Brandon mumbled. Marianne took a look around and saw that Elinor, Edward and Margaret were still a good distance away, seemingly terribly interested in some flowerbed.

"There is no one here but us, and I feel like we really have known each other a small lifetime. Let us be open and completely honest with each other?" Marianne suggested. Brandon nodded.

"I hold our friendship very dear, and would never want to do or say anything to upset it. Yet my heart has grown to long for your company in a different way as well. When I saw less of you I was truly worried that perhaps you had grown tired of me. Well, my brother did say my illness had left me dull looking and lacking spirit…" Marianne started.

"Oh no, Marianne, your brother, if I may be honest and open, is an idiot. You are so beautiful and radiant – my only concern had been that you have been, well, a little withdrawn since your illness."

Marianne nodded.

"Yes, I'm aware of that. And to be honest, I must confess to you I have not been very interested in new company. I only feel at ease with my own family and you."

"I was worried about that, too." Brandon confessed.

"Worried?"

"Yes. I was, and must say I still am, afraid that I have simply imposed my company on you and if you do share any of my feelings perhaps these are only because I have pushed myself into your company…" Brandon explained. He realized Marianne had never let go of his hand after she had grabbed it and he was not willing to let go of it now.

"No, please, Colonel. I have thought about this, too, and please believe me when I say that how I feel about you has grown to measures I cannot begin to fathom in the past few months. I cannot stop thinking of you and wishing for your company. I wonder if it is all because you have been such a friend to me and my family, but I have come to see that how I feel is beyond that as well. Your presence fills a place in my very soul." Moisture was building behind Marianne's eyes, and she saw moisture gathering in Brandon's eyes as well.

"Do you really mean that?" he asked, whispering, in case this was not quite true after all.

"I really mean that," she reassured him.

"But I am so much older, and not endlessly fun company…" he started, but Marianne made a quick "shush" and shook her head. Enough of such doubts.

"I value your company beyond anyone else's. I long for your company when you are away. You have become my dearest friend."

Brandon laughed again, more openly now, and smiled. He was so handsome when he smiled broadly like that, Marianne thought, and blushed somewhat when she realized that she had made him smile such a happy smile.

"Then I hope you do not mind if I talk to your mother? I would like to court you like a gentleman does. Give you time to get to know me a little more before we talk of further commitments?" Brandon felt like he was proposing already. He needed to do this right. He would not make such a delicate young woman commit to him at first realization of mutual feelings. He still needed to be certain. Marianne almost bounced with excitement.

"Yes, please talk to mother. I would be honoured to have chance to learn to know you better. And would like to let you know me, too. I hope we have many opportunities to talk like this: openly and honestly." Marianne said with delight.

Brandon was now holding Marianne's hand with both of his and he lifted it to his lips, bowing lightly. Their eyes were locked and both were smiling.

"Openly and honestly. I would like that very much."


	9. Chapter 9

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 9

They were all pretending to take great interest in the flowers and plants in the garden, but were fooling no one, really. Elinor, Edward and Margaret were all secretly keeping an eye on Marianne and Colonel Brandon. To get these two to have this talk had taken such a long time and too many nerve wrecking twists and turns that Elinor refused to believe all to be well until she spied from the corner of her eye how Brandon took hold of Marianne's hands and lifted them to his lips. The two remained standing very close to each other, clearly only noticing each other at this point. In all honesty, it was only because she knew without a shadow of doubt that Brandon would not be taking any character compromising liberties with Marianne that Elinor did not feel like having to curb this intimacy that was forming at the edge of the garden. Elinor smiled: perhaps both her dear sister and her dear friend could feel at ease and could finally open their hearts for some happiness.

At the edge of the garden both Marianne and the Colonel were both at a loss for words for a moment, lost in each other's eyes. Marianne was beginning to blush ever so slightly and the Colonel found breathing to be a little harder to accomplish than normally. Finally Marianne found her feet again.

"For all I care I wish we did not have to return to the house," she said. The Colonel smiled. He had just been thinking exactly that.

"Yes, to give the dinner a miss and simply hide in this garden with you would make a perfect afternoon and evening for me," the Colonel started, then looked to the three characters still keeping guard in the distance, and continued:

"However, I do feel some concern over how long your dear sisters and Mr Ferrars can possibly find such intriguing plant life in that rockery." Marianne followed his gaze and the pair could not help but laugh.

"Perhaps we should release them from guard duty?" she suggested. Brandon nodded and offered her his arm. As much as he liked his privacy and normally did all he could to avoid showing anything of his life to outsiders, this time he had to admit his male pride was giving him a nudge at the thought of the girl taking his arm. It would be made open and clear that they had an interest in each other.

"Colonel, Marianne." Edward greeted the smiling couple as they returned to their company. Margaret's face revealed every ounce of her curiosity as to what had taken place. Elinor sought her sister's eyes for a clue on what had taken place. All she saw was joy. The kind of joy that genuinely showed the smile in her eyes as well and had the girl practically glowing.

"Mrs Ferrars, I believe I should have a word with Mrs Dashwood. But, well, in private, if that would be alright," Brandon said to Elinor. Elinor smiled and nodded.

"I think that can be arranged. Margaret, would you be a dear and ask Mother to join us here? Quietly?"

"But what do I tell her, she will ask why I want her outside!" Margaret sighed in frustration. She could already see the fuss her mother would make.

"Oh, just tell her I asked for her," Marianne offered. Margaret shrugged and ran off. Her mother's suggestions that ladies did not run had not yet taken root in Margaret's nature.

Both Elinor's as well as Edward's face was signalling such expectation that Brandon felt he had to say something.

"Thank you, both, for allowing us to have a moment, there was a great need to discuss certain…matters," he started. Edward and Elinor almost instinctively reached out for each other's hands. They said nothing, just waited for the Colonel to carry on.

"Perhaps you should know, before Mrs Dashwood arrives, I have asked Miss Marianne if she would allow me to, well, court her. Properly."

Edward was glad he was already smiling because the Colonel's awkwardness at all this certainly would have made him smile. At least the poor fellow wouldn't notice that now. Elinor put her hand on Brandon's arm.

"I have a feeling this will not come as a surprise to anyone here, not even to our mother," she said kindly. And as if on cue, Margaret and Mrs Dashwood appeared through the glass doors. Brandon turned to Marianne to exchange one more private look, as if to say "here goes!" and Marianne returned an encouraging nod before Brandon walked to meet Mrs Dashwood half way. The group observed Brandon directing the path of their walk away from them and Mrs Dashwood gestured Margaret to leave them. The girl stomped back to the others in a half huff.

"Elinor, Edward – I think I feel a bit dizzy," Marianne said as they watched their mother strolling slowly on Brandon's arm. The Ferrars gave Marianne an alarmed looked, first fearing that her illness may be returning, but what they saw was the very image of health: a smiling girl with healthy red on her cheeks and the warmest, longing gaze towards the man she had now openly admitted admiring.

"Did he say he loves you?" Margaret just had to ask. How else was she supposed to know what was going on?

"Margaret!" Elinor reprimanded, earning another half sulking look from her youngest sister.

"I think we have an understanding," Marianne whispered cryptically, her eyes never leaving the Colonel's form. When the Colonel and Mrs Dashwood turned around to walk towards the group, they saw their mother beaming with happiness.


	10. Chapter 10

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 10

Later that night in her bed, Marianne could not sleep. She was feeling giddy and bouncy and all the things that were the opposite of quiet slumber. Her head was filled with images of Brandon earlier this afternoon; her heart was filled with excitement she had not known before. How was a girl to sleep after all that had happened today? She thought back to when they had gone back into the house from the garden. She had just about latched herself onto Brandon's arm, not willing to let go now that she was finally there. People inside the house had paid little attention to Elinor and Edward returning indoors arm in arm, and even less to her mother and Margaret. Marianne expected a few curious looks to come their way as they entered, but she had not expected everyone to stare at them so blatantly. It was all very war and she felt their friends were happy to see them walk in arm in arm: it was just so open she was just struck dumb.

Brandon had maintained his composure much better. When Marianne had turned to look at him she could see a gentle bush creeping up his neck under the collar, but otherwise the man was a rock. Marianne's own cheeks had probably been like a pair of beetroot! Her mother had been smiling unashamedly for the rest of the evening and kept giving these looks, these almost embarrassingly loving and happy looks at both the Colonel and Marianne.

At dinner Marianne had sat next to the Colonel and although technically not much had changed, the way she felt about everything had changed entirely. They were not engaged (yet), and had not made any formal announcements. They had simply walked into the house together. Yet Marianne's world was completely upside down. She felt the energy of the man next to her differently from before and every time their eyes met there was such a strong sense of belonging Marianne physically felt out of breath. It was incredible how in just a few moments, through a few sentences they had exchanged openly with each other, they formed an alliance. One look here and there and she felt very strongly how now she and Colonel Brandon had immediately formed a "we".

While Marianne was wide awake in her bed, a lone figure was making his way home slowly in the light of the full moon. Brandon had surprised himself. He had been adamant about keeping distance for some time longer to see how the young lady's affections turned out, but the moment his chance as the suitor was under threat (imaginary threat, as it turned out, but still), his blood boiled and he had to make a stand. So that's how strong his feelings had been all along? His heart knew what his head had not caught onto yet, that he would not be able to bear it if he lost the girl without at least trying.

Another thing he had realized on his ride back to Delaford was also a revelation to him. If he had thought his heart was ready to burst with love before, after this afternoon he felt it in his entire being. His very soul was filled with a joy he could not explain or even begin to understand. He was done for, but this time he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling: Marianne returned his feelings and perhaps this time he would not get left outside. Tomorrow he would make this same ride back to Barton Cottage where he had escorted the Dashwoods after dinner, and although in many ways his visit would be so similar to all his other visits before, it would also be very different. And he could not wait for tomorrow.

The sleepless night had not left a lasting effect on neither Marianne nor the Colonel. They lived on sustenance more nourishing than sleep or food. All Marianne was capable of thinking about was the Colonel and when she might see him again. His thoughts did not differ much, except for the horrors he encountered in the middle of the night when he suddenly realized he had what one was supposed to do to court a lady.

The Colonel felt fine about visiting and having walks and conversation, about reading and talking about what they had read – the things they had done earlier. Now it was a completely different. Or was it? He had very little choice in where to get help, as infuriating as it was to him: Sir John. Brandon had first thought of riding to the Ferrars, but then he remembered how young Edward had been before he was free to talk to Elinor. No, he would need to talk to Sir John. Then, maybe, a chat with Elinor if there was a chance of a private word.

At Barton Sir John greeted his friend with a lot of noise.

"Brandon, my dear friend, what brings you back so soon? Not that I mind at all, I simply expected your tracks might take you to the cottage first," he laughed.

"Yes, well…" Brandon muttered in reply, trying to see who else was within earshot. Sir John did not miss anything.

"If you're wondering where everyone else is, no need to worry, they're in the garden enjoying games and lemonade. What worries you so much, Brandon?"

Brandon sighed. Nothing to it but to fess up on his fecklessness. It hadn't been that bad, though. Sir John had not made fun of him but given him genuine encouragement: no need to invent a different approach to how he should spend time with Miss Marianne, just make her see that she really was at the centre of his attention and interest. Have her (and the family) around at Delaford, maybe teach her and young Margaret to ride? And when the ball season game, perhaps the young lady would like to go out once or twice and, judging by her return of affection, she might like to be seen with him as well.

On his way out from Barton Brandon noticed a particularly handsome rosebush an out came the pocket knife. At Barton Cottage, Margaret was out doing her adventures in the garden when he arrived. The welcome he received from the girl was loud and enthusiastic – was he really such a longed after visitor to this house? Margaret ran into the house ahead of him to alert Mrs Dashwood and Marianne. It only took a thought of seeing Marianne now to make Brandon's insides do a somersault. He knew that the hand that was hiding the rose behind his back was trembling ever so slightly.

"Colonel!" Marianne greeted him. Her face was beaming with joy and her smile was as wide as he had ever seen, especially lately. Her entire being was out to convince him that the night had made no change in their disposition: she really did seem as pleased to see him as he was to see her.

"Miss Marianne, Mrs Dashwood," he greeted the ladies almost formally, giving them each a polite nod. He then presented Marianne with the rose. A slight blush tinted her cheeks.

"Oh, Colonel, thank you. It is lovely!"

Mrs Dashwood had said nothing, merely greeted the man with a polite bow of her own, not hiding her smile or her joy in having him there. Looking at her daughter and the fine but clearly a little awkward man Mrs Dashwood decided she actually had very little input in the entire discourse and should find a way of letting Marianne and the Colonel re-acquaint themselves a little. They had been so natural together earlier on when he used to come and see them regularly, but now she could see how differently the pair was looking at each other. She had seen it in Edward and Elinor after Edward's proposal and she remembered the feeling well form when Mr Dashwood had proposed to her all that time ago. Oh, Mr Dashwood would have approved both of Edward and the Colonel so much!

"Would you care for a cup of tea in the garden, Colonel?" Mrs Dashwood managed to think as her alibi for leaving the scene. Brandon practically tore his eyes off Marianne to respond:

"Thank you, yes, that would be very nice."

"Marianne, why don't you take the Colonel through and I'll ask for the tea," Mrs Dashwood suggested and quickly disappeared back into the cottage, tugging Margaret along with her.

"I hope you are well?" Marianne started, wanting to kick herself for such an idiotic conversation starter. What, really, had changed so much since before that she was no longer able to talk to Colonel Brandon like the friends they were? He gave her a tentative smile. Was he not faring any better?

"Thank you, yes. And I hope you are as well?" he responded. Marianne nodded with a smile and decided walking around he cottage to the garden might ease the situation somewhat.

"Thank you for the rose, it's beautiful," she then said as they slowly made their way around the corner. Brandon had a feeling Mrs Dashwood had made a disappearance act on them on purpose and he wanted to prolong this opportunity to have Marianne to himself.

"I… I must apologize ahead of time, Miss Marianne…" Brandon muttered. Marianne stopped and turned to look at the man who seemed very ill at ease all of a sudden.

"What ever for?"

"Yesterday we…" he started and Marianne suddenly felt all blood drain from her face. Had he changed his mind?

"Please, don't look so horrified, this is not terribly easy to confess…" he continued, but his awkwardness did little to erase Marianne's fears. Tears were dangerously close to emerging in her eyes.

"Do you not wish to…" she started, barely able to bring the words out. Brandon suddenly realized the misunderstanding his inaptness at expressing himself was bringing about.  
>"Oh no, please, Miss Marianne, do not think I am going back on what I asked yesterday. More than anything I wish to keep seeing you and to spend time with you and you must never doubt that."<p>

"Then what is wrong?" Marianne asked, regaining her breath again.

"I asked to court you properly, and now that I find that you do not find that an unwelcome prospect, I – well – I suddenly realize I don't quite know what I should do."

Brandon had thought something in him would burst if they did not find a way of easing the tension that had built up. Albeit tension of the sweetest kind, it was making him feeling even moronic than he did at best of times. He had to confess to Marianne what he had confessed to Sir John earlier. Sir John had even suggested that Marianne already knew him enough not to think that such a bachelor of long standing and reserved disposition would suddenly turn into a poetry-spouting romancer. Marianne smiled at him gently.

"How about we start with tea in the garden?" Marianne suggested tentatively. She also had no idea what to expect. What did it mean when you were being courted? Brandon smiled now, too, more at ease with himself and the situation.

"Yes, that sounds good."

In the garden they sat down where they so often had sat before, reading. Conversation was coming to them easier now, and little by little their old confidence in each other's company was returning. Except their confidence in each other's company now included a generous degree more of deeply staring into each other's eyes and letting hands rest on the bench so that a finger could feather a touch on a palm or the side of a hand.

"I must confess, Colonel, that although we have known each other for quite some time by now and also agreed ages ago that we are friends," Marianne then started before tea would come. She may not get another chance today. Brandon looked at her quizzically.

"The way I feel in your company now, after our talk yesterday, is very different from before." Marianne finished her confession and was relieved to see the Colonel let out a relieved chuckle.

"Then I'm not the only one," he stated. The smiles they exchanged said more than words could and in an instant they felt like they had done in the Garden at Barton last night: they could be open and honest and there was no need to make appearances to each other. It would be alright. Brandon knew he would not have to jump through hoops or perform to any expectations with Marianne. She knew whom he was and that how he felt about her was sincere. And Marianne, equally, knew in this moment that Colonel Brandon would never tread harshly on her feelings, would never take advantage of her weaknesses and would always let her be just the person she was.

It was good they had time for this exchange before Mrs Dashwood finally joined them in the garden, announcing that tea would be arriving shortly.


	11. Chapter 11

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 11

Margaret's excited yelps made her want to laugh, but she was far too busy for that: busy for staying upright and on top of the horse! Marianne concentrated on the horse as well as she could, but it was not easy. Not with the Colonel there right next to her, holding the horse steady, giving her encouraging comments and advice on her posture and all. Margaret was doing much the same with one of Brandon's stable hands while Elinor and Mother were watching it all from the side.

They were on a field covered in thick grass, dotted with flowers. The Colonel had selected the location not far from the Delaford stables, as the surface was softer than in the enclosures at the stables themselves. Mrs Dashwood and Elinor were enjoying a cake or two with tea whilst the younger sisters took their first proper riding lesson. The riding was something that had been discussed fervently in the Dashwood household in the past few weeks. Was it really proper, to be instructed by young men (well one quite young and one not quite so young), and what if the girls hurt themselves. Elinor had done all she could to persuade her mother that learning to ride was perfectly acceptable and proper. Watching Margaret and Marianne enjoy themselves so warmed Mrs Dashwood's heart no end. It was good for these young ladies to laugh and feel free with all that they gone through in the past couple of years.

Both girls quickly got the hang of staying upright on their horses and they were walked around the enclosure for a while until they felt more confident. After some time it was time to call it a day for this lesson. Brandon explained to both girls how to dismount. Margaret was clearly a born rider and had no trouble getting down fro her side saddle at all, but as Marianne made her move she managed to get her foot slightly caught somewhere and was about to come down head first. For her good fortune Brandon was right there and with seemingly no effort at all caught the young woman mid-air. There was no reason really to keep holding her, except both of them being a little flustered and shaken by the near-accident.

No reason at all – except Brandon found he was most reluctant to let go of Marianne. He had held her almost exactly the same way before, but then she had been barely conscious and he had been extremely distressed with fear. This time, Marianne had instinctively managed to wrap her arms around his neck for support while he held her one arm under her waist and the other behind her knees. Realizing that they were behind her horse and not in the line of sight of Mrs Dashwood and Mrs Ferrars also made it easier for Brandon not to let go of his angel.

"Thank you, Colonel, you are forming quite a habit rescuing me," Marianne said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. She found the nearness of this man brought up feelings and sensations in her that she had never even imagined before, and after every time he was close enough to her to touch – even ever so little – she found she wanted more. She wanted to be close to him. Close enough to catch his scent, close enough to exchange small touches. Close enough to see little details in his eyes, his hands or his hair. See things others probably wouldn't because most people would never stand so close to him. And now she was in his arms and she could feel the blood rise to her cheeks. She could feel his warm body against hers and could not help herself but allowed her fingers to mix with his hair at the back of his neck, touch his neck just above his collar.

"It would break my heart to see anything happen to you, Miss Marianne" he replied softly, also barely more than whispering. Her face was so close to his kissing her would be the easiest thing to do. But he would not chance it. Opportunities to take her out on her own were scarce enough as they were, thanks to the escapades with that Willoughby, and Brandon knew he and Marianne were now paying the price the carelessness of youth.

"I hope I will not burden you like this too often."

"I held you like this before, but you were not quite with us at the time. I have you now before any harm was done and that makes me infinitely happy. I will be forever happy to hold you like this if it keeps you safe," he confessed. Marianne smiled.

"I feel very safe. And to be held like this by you also makes me happy."

The pair lost themselves in each other's eyes for a moment longer, but eventually Margaret's excited voice recounting her riding experience to her mother and sister brought them back to reality and Brandon hand to let go of Marianne. When he walked her to the picnic blanket Elinor could tell by the private smiles the two were sharing that something had happened, but Elinor was pleased to see that while very discreet about it, her friend and her sister had taken another step on their path to becoming a full couple.


	12. Chapter 12

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 12

The almost traditional picnic had been planned by Colonel Brandon and Marianne together. She had been a little apprehensive first, remembering her appalling behaviour that time the Colonel had invited her family to Delaford. She had later understood that it wasn't really something he did, but he had just wanted to open up to people a little bit and spend time with Marianne. Not that that picnic had come to much in terms having it at Delaford then: the Colonel had received a message and had left the whole picnic party standing. The Dashwoods had returned to Barton Cottage with Mr Willoughby.

This year Brandon wanted to make up for the unfortunate events and persuaded Marianne to, as much as it was really possible, host his picnic with him. The invitations naturally came from Brandon, but Marianne spent time with the Colonel's cook to plan the meal and Brandon took Marianne and Margaret out on a ride around his estate to look for a nice spot.

And a nice spot it was, too. It was an opening by a picturesque pond on a warm and soft field with some trees around for shade. It could not have been more perfect. Brandon decided not to mention that this is where he would have brought the party that time, too, as he wanted Marianne to make the decision. He wanted her to really explore Delaford and start to feel like she had a part in it. His estate, his family home, had missed the presence of someone like Marianne for such a long time!

The party had made its way to the perfect spot in carriages and Margaret had been allowed to ride. Brandon had given her one of the more reliable and not-so-eager older horses just to be on the safe side, but that did not dampen Margaret's joy at being so independent at all. The girl had taken to riding like a duck to water and seeing her joy in interacting with the beautiful beast warmed Brandon's heart no end. Marianne was almost as much a natural as Margaret, but Brandon suspected that just those short years the two girls had between them already made a difference at the speed of picking up these new skills.

The greatest surprise of all, ever since that gathering at Sir John's, was not to do with either of the Dashwood girls, but Mrs Jennings: the lady everyone knew to enjoy teasing the young about the matters of the heart was discreetness personified. Sir John suspected this to be not only because of the frivolity that had been there when Willoughby had been courting Marianne, but simply because Colonel Brandon was simply such a formidable man. It was one thing to tease defenceless and easily blushing youngsters, but the Colonel was a man of the world and would never engage in open mockery even with the best of intentions and that awarded him with the same courtesy. It didn't stop the party from enjoying seeing Marianne and Brandon together, privately making guesses as to when the man would finally propose.

The way Marianne seemed to naturally take over as a hostess, organizing the foods and seating and all, the way the Colonel would ask Marianne about where to place the cushions they'd brought for sitting upon, the way they sat side by side – and rather close at that – when everyone enjoyed the picnic: it all warmed the hearts of both Mrs Jennings and Mrs Dashwood. Elinor managed to exchange a private but very communicative smile that was bordering on a smirk with Marianne, giving her sister encouragement and letting her know how happy Elinor was for her right now.

Garden games made the grown-ups laugh and frolic like children, and the one child in the party was allowed to feel very mature and grown up when she was asked to showcase her newly-acquired skills at horsemanship. Margaret showed various riding school tricks the Colonel and his stable hands had taught her: turning both ways on the spot, reversing, changing from trot to light gallop and such. She was so proud of herself, and Brandon was quite proud of her too. He was the first to cheer and started the applause when Margaret finished. Brandon helped the girl down from the horse, and in her excitement Margaret then ran straight to Marianne.

"Oh Marianne, did you see? I got the reversing right!" Margaret was rejoicing.

"Please let me still come to Delaford to ride even when you and Brandon are married!" the girl requested with flushed cheeks, forgetting that there was more company there than just her and her sisters. The others chuckled warmly at the slight indiscretion, but as usual, Margaret really was only saying what was on everyone's mind anyways.

Brandon felt heat creeping up from under his collar. He had been thinking of the very thing for some time now, and had decided he should perhaps wait another couple of months. Then again, they had been spending quite a lot of time together in the past few months and for his part he knew that any prospect of the future that did not include this magical woman in his life was a prospect that would finish him. She seemed to like spending time with him, and the small opportunities they had had to talk had allowed them to continue with the open discourse they had started: she was as drawn to him as he was to her. Perhaps he could have a little walk with her today and have a little talk.

"Margaret, shush!" Marianne reprimanded her sister. Margaret realized what she'd said and covered her mouth with her hand. Marianne looked at Brandon, rolling her eyes a little in a silent apology. Brandon surprised everyone with a broad smile.

"Never mind Margaret. That may be the topic everyone is discreetly avoiding talking about, but I promise you, should that be the eventuality in the future you are always welcome at Delaford. Or rather, I would like to think you would keep visiting what ever the future holds," he said to Margaret in a kind quiet voice.

Marianne smiled at him. Not sure how it was possible, but she felt she was falling in deeper and deeper with the Colonel by the day. She felt at complete ease with him and she had realized quite some time ago that her place was with him. Not only was it the ease of company and the conversations, the way they were able to talk to each other, but the presence. Increasingly she had started to feel butterflies in her belly in Brandon's company. It had by now become customary for them to try and sit next to each other when possible, for him to offer his hand if they were walking anywhere and at times even twine their fingers together discreetly under a table given half a chance. That day Brandon had helped her off her horse had been one of many. Nothing untoward ever really took place, but the pull she had to touch him and to feel his touch, his warmth, any way she could was getting stronger and stronger. It had reached a point where being away from him, physically, was torment.

"I wonder, Miss Marianne, and Margaret, if you'd like to take a turn by the pond?" Brandon suggested. It had become an unspoken code with Mrs Dashwood by now to include Margaret as the chaperone. If Mrs Dashwood had no objection for Brandon and Marianne to talk more discreetly with one another, she would trust them with Margaret.

"Anyone else feel in need of stretching their legs?" Marianne asked, sending a meaningful look at Elinor. Elinor's eyebrows quickly acknowledged her understanding what Marianne wanted and Elinor got up from her cushion.

"Yes, please, great idea!"

As Marianne had hoped, Elinor took on the job of keeping Margaret a little preoccupied and once out of sight behind a tuft of trees by the water Elinor made sure their chaperoning was less than vigilant. Until an engagement was announced Brandon and Marianne hade very few chances of talking privately.

The Colonel tried to hide his budding smile at the fluent and absolutely sneaky way those sisters worked things out. And right now he saw that Elinor and Margaret had stopped to throw pebbles into the pond, trying to hit a piece of wood drifting in the middle. He guided Marianne a few steps into the trees where they were not seen or heard by anyone: what luxury! Almost immediately the pair turned to face each other and Brandon took Marianne's hands to his lips.

"I hope you've enjoyed today," he said, looking into her eyes to try and read her emotions. Marianne smiled at him, blushing again. What was it that happened to her when close to him like this?

"Yes, it's been so lovely. Particularly so right now." The last part came out almost a whisper. Brandon thought he might choke in his own heart: it had swelled up in his chest and was beating like a hammer, thudding in his ears.

"Yes, it's been lovely. Right now, Marianne, I cannot hide it from you, I wish I was free to openly express all that I feel for you. In plain view…" he half muttered again wanting to say so much more than what his thick tongue seemed capable of.

Marianne tightened her hold on his hands and in turn pulled them to her face. Gingerly, she turned the backs of his hands up so that she could place the lightest of kisses on his hands. Brandon had to take a deep breath.

"Marianne, I've known for some time, in as much certainty a man ever can, I think, that my heart is no longer mine. It took a leap out of my chest the very first time I ever saw you at Barton, but over time that instant… attraction… has become much larger than I've ever even been able to imagine. Am I right to hope that you might, still, feel warm enough towards me to carry on with me?"

Her look was somewhat puzzled: carry on with him? Gods she wanted to spend the rest of life with him. She wanted to be his before all her family and friends, before God. She wanted him. Is that what he was asking?  
>"Christopher," his name, rarely spoken by her except on those few occasions they were truly alone, came out a whisper. Moisture built up in her eyes, but she fought the tears so that she would be able to say what she needed to say with conviction.<p>

"Christopher. I'm not sure what you mean by carry on. If it means more time I can spend with you I am filled with joy. The way I have come to feel about you is so great it's awe inspiring: with you I feel complete and fully me. With you I am at ease with God's earth, and with you all I can think of is having a chance to slip away from everything else so that it can be just the two of us. Like right now. What you stir in me, Christopher Brandon, is nothing short of overwhelming, and I never want to stop feeling that way. I love you."

Now it was Brandon's turn to try and bat away the tears that were trying to surface. He had no words for how he was feeling, but he had to reciprocate somehow.

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward…" he mumbled, then could no longer hold himself back but let go of her hands so that he could cup her cheek with one hand and gently sink the fingers of the other in her hair around the neck. As he did this, his mouth sought hers and the bliss of feeling her lips on his made him let out a muffled moan. She was surprised, but not taken back. It was a dream come true: a true first kiss.

Marianne had wondered what one did when kissed, but now that it was happening she found nature seemed to know the answers: to respond to his lips felt like the most natural action in the world. Pressing back against him a little, reciprocating his small movements, taking his bottom lip between her lips and tasting him – she couldn't possibly repress the little whimper of joy that came out.

But moments like these were too precious to last long. The sound of Margaret's laughter registered in their ears and they pulled apart, both breathing heavily, not wanting to break eye contact.

"I love you, too." Brandon managed to whisper before they stepped back and made sure they were respectable and no one needed to suspect anything inappropriate if they should now be seen.

"Why don't you go on ahead – I… I think I need to compose myself a little…" he suggested. Marianne gave him a smile. She, too, was in an overwhelmed state and if she took his arm again she would not be able to calm down.

"I'll be right behind you," he assured her.

As he watched her gracious form retreat from him with one more conspiratorial look thrown his way, one more private smile exchanged between them, he knew he would have to propose soon. He needed her by his side like he needed air and water. If she was that certain of her feelings, he would have to let go of his insecurities and trust that after all this time she was not under any transient girlish crush or infatuation but she was a smart, grown-up young woman who knew her heart. Should she accept his proposal like he now had true hope to believe she would, she would never be short of love and affection in her life.


	13. Chapter 13

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 13

For three days Marianne had been floating in the air. Three days ago this afternoon Brandon had kissed her and they had declared in no uncertain terms that what they tentatively set out to probe by formal courting was still an undeniable fact: she loved him and he loved her. The confirmation and statement of the shared feelings alone would have been enough to make Marianne dizzy, but then there was the kiss. How could simple touch between two people be filled with so much emotion and feeling? Yes, a hug and cuddle from Elinor or Mother on a bad day brought comfort, or holding someone's hand when you weren't feeling too sure of yourself brought you a little confidence, but that kiss: what a thrill!

Unbeknownst to Marianne, it was also the same three days that had witnessed a nearly constantly smiling Colonel Brandon at Delaford. He did his best to behave as though everything was just normal, but his insides insisted on making a show of what was going on in his heart: a great urge to shout his happiness to the world. He had been uncertain, yes, but since that talk at the picnic – never mind that overwhelming kiss – he felt he could trust her to know her mind. And what about that kiss? Searing hot, he could still feel her lips on his, her hands on him, the warmth of her body against his. Marriage could not come soon enough for him now, he had decided. There would be propriety in how long an engagement was, but if at the end of it he would be allowed to bring his sweet Marianne home to Delaford for good he could not ask God for more.

That same evening Brandon was already preparing to retire for the night when the he and his staff heard a single rider approach the house. It was already dark except for a dim moonlight, and Brandon certainly was not expecting anyone. Brandon went to meet the traveller at the entrance himself. As the horse came closer Brandon could see the man's uniform: the cavalry. In a short moment he could see enough detail to recognize the uniform to come from his own regiment. This had to be serious: they would never send a messenger into the night like this if it was simply a question of a special reception where the reserve officers were wanted sometimes.

"Colonel Brandon?" the young officer asked as he approached the man holding a lantern.

"Yes, I am," Brandon replied and waited for the younger man to explain himself.

"Lieutenant Williams, sir, I've been sent to bring deliver your orders." The man was still slightly out of breath from his fast ride, but was clearly keen to fulfil his duty promptly and with clarity. He reached for the order papers in his messenger bag he was carrying and passed them on to Brandon.

"Orders? But I've been made a reserve an eternity ago." Brandon quizzed under breath. This did not promise anything good.

"You better come in Lieutenant, you should have something to eat and drink, you must have been riding all day." Good or not, Brandon was not one to shoot the messenger. He guided the Lieutenant to the front parlour and rang the bell as he started to open the papers.

Brandon had to read through the orders twice before the facts sunk in: it was worse than bad. It was catastrophic and he felt as though his entire world had been pulled apart. He could not even trust his legs suddenly and he had to sit down. His butler was already providing the young Lieutenant with tea and some bread and cheese.

"Do you know what these orders are?" Brandon eventually asked the younger man. Williams nodded.

"And they're quite adamant this cannot wait?"

Williams shook his head in confirmation. It was serious. He hadn't quite prepared himself to a situation where whoever was to receive that letter would look like they wanted to refuse the orders, but this man certainly did not look too pleased about them.

"Christ!" Brandon spat in a rare show of not controlling his demeanour. He started pacing in front of the fire. This would change everything. Absolutely everything.

"I'll need to make some arrangements." Brandon simply stated then and instructed his butler to find the Lieutenant somewhere to rest for a few hours and to have someone see to the horse. With no further words Brandon disappeared into his study and sat down at his desk. He had letters to write, and one of them was going to make his heart bleed. He would not leave without seeing her, but there would be no opportunity to say all that he wanted to say to her.

The first gloom of the day was barely visible when the men set off from Delaford and it was hardly possible to say that the morning was out by the time they had reached Barton Cottage. A bewildered Thomas opened the front door, still in his shirt sleeves having only pulled his trousers on when he'd heard the banging at the door.

"Colonel Brandon, sir, is something the matter?" Thomas greeted the familiar visitor and guided the men in.

"I'm so sorry I had to come at this ungodly hour…" Brandon started, but paused as he saw Mrs Dashwood enter the front room in her morning gown, still wearing her night attire.

"Mrs Dashwood, please forgive this early intrusion," Brandon repeated his apology.

"My dear Brandon, has something happened? Why are you in your uniform?" Mrs Dashwood was getting somewhat alarmed, looking at the Colonel and his companion.

"I'm afraid something has happened and if I may, I'd like to talk to Miss Marianne. Please." Brandon's appeal may have looked calm and formal to most, but in this house he was known better than that: his appeal was full of urgency and concern.

"I'm sorry, I should have introduced… This is Lieutenant Williams – ah, Marianne…"

Marianne and Margaret had heard the commotion and as soon as they had managed the least possible to make themselves decent, they'd headed downstairs.

"Colonel Brandon, what is it?" Marianne asked, picking up on the general sense of alarm in the house.

"Please, why don't you go have a word in the garden, and we'll have a cup of tea here meanwhile?" Mrs Dashwood offered. The situation was too serious to worry about appearances. Colonel Brandon would never have come like this without a serious reason. Brandon nodded at Mrs Dashwood, then gestured for Marianne to go outside before him.

"Colonel, you're frightening me. Why are you in your uniform?"

"Marianne… Oh dear God I don't know to say what I need to say…" Brandon started. Marianne stepped closer to him, facing him, seeking his eyes and wanting him to go on.

"'I'm afraid I've just been delivered orders to join my regiment for some time."

"What?" Marianne couldn't quite believe it. Of course Brandon wasn't that old yet, but it was understood he was in the reserves and even as such among the last ones to be called should the need for reserves arise.

"I know. And that isn't the worst of it." Brandon continued:

"Contagious fever has broken out at the regiment just when they were supposed to ship out to Cadiz. The illness has taken a serious toll among the senior officers but it is imperative to send the troops over to support Wellington's campaign. They've called in as many reserves as possible, basically everyone they know to be in decent condition and we are having to take over until regular officers an be sent over to replace us."

Marianne had stopped breathing at the mention of shipping out to Cadiz. They were shipping her Brandon away from her!

"Oh no, no!" she moaned, tears already forming in her eyes. Brandon's heart was in pain as if being stabbed, he did not want to do this to her, not now. He did not want to do this to himself, either.

"I know, my dear Marianne, I know. I'm beginning to believe the fates simply will not grant me but a glimpse of happiness that could be but somehow I'll not be allowed to have." Brandon sighed.

"But surely you will then come back?" Marianne asked with desperation. Of course a trip like that would take time, but they weren't going to send the reserves to fight?

"I wish I knew." Brandon muttered, taking Marianne's hands in his.

"Marianne, my love. Last time we talked I told you, and I say it again: you are my life now and I love you more than I can tell you. My intention was that the next time I came to Barton Cottage it would be to propose to you. To ask if you would marry me…" what he was going to say next got stuck in his throat and choked him to silence.

"Christopher?" Marianne asked, his name slipping out as if a signal of how serious the situation was.

"I cannot possibly ask you to wait, Marianne. I cannot ask that of you." Brandon forced the words out and could not help the moisture forming in his eyes as he saw the shear pain in Marianne's eyes as his words sunk in.

"No, no – you cannot leave like this. What am I supposed to do? Keep my eyes open for other options? For someone else? There is only you, Christopher, I don't care whether you formally propose or not, I've already promised myself to you if you were to feel like having me and I will wait." Marianne gained back some of the fire in her temper: they were not to going to give up now, not after it had taken her stupid heart all this time to really understand what it was to love someone.

"I know you have to go, and I understand that it can take time and perhaps I'll not even hear from you. Will there be any chance to send letters, do you think? All the same, I am as good as yours Christopher Brandon, and you just going to have to come back and tell me in person if you no longer want me at the end of all this." Tears were running down her cheeks but she had such determination in her whole being it rubbed off on Brandon as well.

"In that case, my love, the moment I return my first stop will be Barton Cottage and I will propose to you then and let you see if I'm still in any condition to be accepted." Brandon's voice wasn't much more than an emotion filled whisper but through his tears he managed to form a smile. He had wanted to release her of all obligations to him, but now that she refused in such beautifully obstinate manner he felt relief an joy.

Time was running out, he needed to get under way but damn all modesty to hell he would not go without feeling his beautiful Marianne in his arms just once more. He pulled her to him, except it wasn't really much of a pull as she was already on half way there. The lips crashed on to one another's, stifled moans and fevered whispers declaring unchanging and absolute love were exchange between kisses by the lovers who held on to each other as for dear life. Before it became too much for Brandon to handle, he gently let her down again and gave her one more gentle and lingering kiss.

"Goodbye Marianne. I will try and write if there is any chance of getting letters through. I love you."

"Goodbye, Christopher. Please look after yourself and stay out of trouble. You are needed here – I love you so much." Marianne managed to say before she choked up as Brandon stepped away and then briskly marched back into the house, quickly wiping his eyes to the back of his hand.

She heard him bid goodbye to her mother and Margaret, apologizing for everything once more, then summoning his officer escort. Then silence for a moment before her mother and Margaret both rushed out into the garden. How was it even possible to crash down this low from the heights of happiness she had been floating in until this morning?


	14. Chapter 14

Her Eyes Opened, Chapter 14

As reluctant as he was to leave at all, Brandon could not really get away from Barton Cottage fast enough: every second he was near Marianne made him want to defy his orders and not care if he was locked up for insubordination. So far his reason was still winning his internal battle, though, as he understood perfectly well that the consequences of insubordination were likely to be much worse than spending a few months away from Marianne. The risks involved in having to join battle and even just the journey there were something he knew intimately, but there should be a decent chance of making it back in one piece eventually. He was not going to cut is nose to spite his face.

In his inner turmoil he hadn't handed his letter to Marianne, but remembered it on his way out and gave it to Mrs Dashwood to hand over later. Half his night had been spent on letters to ensure his estate would be cared for and things would run as they should while he was away. The letters also covered the eventuality that the gods of war finally caught up with him and made him pay all that he had managed to escape form on his earlier campaigns in India. He had escaped with his life, then. His injury should have finished him and the state he had been mentally at the time had hardly helped his recovery yet somehow he was still alive. How many chances did one man get?

As soon as the men's figures had disappeared from the cottage's path, Mrs Dashwood and Margaret rushed out into the garden. The air was cool, but tearful Marianne couldn't care less.

"Oh Marianne, what was that? That young officer explained the regiment were summoning all capable reserves and shipping them somewhere with the troops!" Mrs Dashwood had not quite been able to take in all the details, having so clearly seen what state the Colonel had been in.

"He's gone…" Marianne sobbed. Her mother rushed over to embrace her and Marianne's sadness was so tangible even young Margaret felt the loss and joined in the embrace.

"He's gone and doesn't know when he'll be back. And there could be fighting… What if something happens to him?" Marianne was getting very distraught now.

Mrs Dashwood held her tight a few more moments, then decided that in lack of stronger medicines, tea would have to do.

"Let's go in dear, we mustn't catch our death out here," Mrs Dashwood spoke calmly and softly into Marianne's ear. Margaret had already begun to suspect it and this was further proof to her theory that somewhere underneath that highly emotional and fussy exterior her mother had carried for so long was a woman with great resources and even presence of mind. Now that Elinor was not with them here anymore to look after them, her mother had had to come to a little. Now, here she was, being the collected one, sheltering her girls.

Mrs Dashwood did not hand Marianne Brandon's letter until the girl had sat down and taken a few sips from her tea. She was beginning to breathe more calmly now and was wiping away her tears. The determination she had summoned earlier with Brandon, the determination to see this through, was returning.

"He left you a letter, dear," Mrs Dashwood passed the envelope to Marianne. Marianne took the letter with a nod, but did not open it. She wasn't sure if she was able to just yet.

"I'll go upstairs to read it, if that's alright mother," Marianne then said. Her mother simply nodded. Margaret sighed. She, naturally, wanted to know what was in the letter, but assumed all would be told later. Her mother would want to know as well. The three continued to have their tea in silence, Mrs Dashwood reaching over the table every now and then to stroke Marianne's hand.

Some time later, upstairs after both Marianne and Margaret had got dressed, Margaret had left her sister on her own and gone downstairs in hopes of actual breakfast. It was obvious to her that neither her mother nor Marianne would be having any, but she was hungry all the same. Marianne took a deep breath and opened the envelope.

_My dearest Marianne,_

_To have to write this letter now pains me more than I can say. I should be on my way to Dover where my regiment waits for boarding and we will be shipped to Cadiz. What will happen there, I do not know beyond organizing the regiment and troops so that they will be ready to join Wellington's campaign fighting fit. Literally. I've understood that troops are rotated through Cadiz so that those who have been on the battlefield can come and have some rest from time to time. This being the case, I cannot say how long our troops have there before we are to replace someone. It is also impossible to guess how long it will take for any of the regular, active, officers to regain their health enough to make the journey across and replace us reserve officers. _

_I do not wish to sound fatalistic, but I have great concerns regarding this exercise: I (and I doubt the rest of the reserves are in the same position) do not know the regiment anymore as well as I should, having been away from active duty for so long. I haven't been there to drill them or to train them at the manoeuvres – I only know a handful of the younger officers I'm expected to lead. That, the climate, the decease that has been ransacking the regiment, never mind battle itself they all fill me with uncertainty and, I must admit, fear. So, you see, my dearest Marianne, I cannot ask you to be my bride yet. I cannot ask you to be tied to me in any formal way. I have a feeling now, that you'll have something to say about that when I talk to you about this in the morning. Gods, I hope I do get a chance to see you and talk to you in the morning! Captain Williams there was not best pleased when I informed him that we'd be making a detour, but too bad. I will not leave without at least trying to see you once more, my love._

_How I wish I could promise to be back soon and that everything will be alright, but I have been to enough war and conflict to know no one's safe. I have had my narrow escape in India already and I cannot help but assume that may have been my share of good fortune. That and getting to know you, Marianne. The pessimist in me is already voicing a very loud "should have known" since Williams delivered the orders: was the dream of a lifetime with you too much for the fates? Was it to be just that, a dream? My heart bleeds with the prospect of not returning to you, yet I'm trying to summon my backbone and tell myself – and you – that it might be all fine in the end. That perhaps we'll simply get to Cadiz, settle and the next ship over will bring the active officers and takes us reserves back to England._

_Meanwhile, this may be the only letter I can produce. I will see what chance there is to send mail over from Cadiz to England, but what ever it is, it will not be very quick. Similarly, I don't expect any letters from you, as it will be next to impossible to have them delivered to where I will be. I haven't asked you for a keepsake so far and will not ask for one when (I hope) I see you in a few hours time. I'm not a sentimental man for such things. That does not mean that I won't be carrying you with me in my heart the entire time: memory of your lips on mine, of your embrace, your smile and laugh, I will not forget one moment I have spent with you, my dear Marianne._

_On the practical side, you should know that I have also written letters to your sister Elinor and Sir John and asked them to keep an eye on Delaford. My staff are vary capable and will run the house perfectly well while I am away, but I still would like someone to go see the place from time to time. I would also like it if you and Margaret would carry on your riding lessons. Perhaps your sister Elinor can take you there from time to time? It would give me great comfort to know that you are at Delaford._

_I have also written to Mr Johnson, my solicitor, and instructed him on how to deal with my assets should the worst happen. I have instructed him to make sure you and your family are cared for with an annuity and there is no condition of marriage. Should I not return from here I want both you and Margaret to have every chance of building lives for yourselves. An annuity should overcome some of the usual obstacles, as much as I disapprove of this business side of marriages. Mr Johnson has also been instructed to look after Eliza Williams and money will be put aside for the child to receive some education eventually. I have been meaning to introduce you to Ms Williams but somehow have not had a chance. I think you'd like her very much and I hope there will be a chance to get acquainted. _

_Please do not think ill of me for making these arrangements. Every ounce of my soul craves for it to be me you marry, but I must, I must make sure all eventualities are covered if I am to have any peace of mind while I'm away. Look after yourself, Marianne, and be brave. This could prove to be just a brief delay in the plans I had made for us and I do not wish to depress you needlessly, but at the same time one should be prepared. _

_For one moment do not doubt my love for you. It surpasses everything I have ever known in this life and to have as much time with you as I've had has already been a blessing. Now I only wish that I can come back and you will still have me._

_All my love,_

_Christopher_


	15. Chapter 15

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 15

Two months had gone without a word from Brandon. Marianne had wept, as quietly and in secret as she could, most every evening and other times if left to her own devices. The letter Brandon had left her had been read to shreds and she carried it with her any time she left Barton Cottage. It had become a talisman of sorts, a way of making sure the practical arrangements Brandon had listed would not have to see the light of day. She would keep it all to her self and that way they would never be needed. She knew there was no rhyme or reason to her thinking but she could not help herself.

Sir John had been in touch with all his contacts at the regiment with hopes of getting some news to Marianne. He was also trying to come up with activities and distractions for the young lady. Any time Sir John made a visit to Delaford to have a word with Brandon's butler and check on the horses, he took his carriage and dropped by at the cottage to see if Miss Marianne and Miss Margaret would join him for a little trip. The young ladies had continued their riding classes a few times on these day trips, but as much fun riding was, Marianne just could not shake herself out of her worry and sadness. Sir John had not heard anything yet.

Marianne had also taken to visit her sister Elinor as often as possible, just to get a change of scenery. As usual, Elinor was able to comfort and calm her and had assured Marianne that she was welcome to stay with her and Edward as much as she liked. Not wanting to make a nuisance of herself, Marianne took to taking long walks again so that she'd be out of Elinor's house for a good part of the day. She didn't even tell Elinor, but another source of comfort to her was to roam around Delaford estate.

On the various paths and trails she would think if this was where Colonel Brandon came out riding. At any lovely view she stopped to admire the natural beauty and wondered if Colonel Brandon did the same. There were places she remembered from when she had been riding with the Colonel and Margaret, looking for the picnic spot. More than once she had walked over to the picnic spot itself and spent some time right where they had had their first kiss. The memory of that kiss, or the one they shared just before he left, had not left her. She'd read his letter again and again, not able to stop tears from falling. How could he even begin to think that she would forget about him just because he had to go away for a while? And why was he so convinced he'd not return?

Today, when she returned to Elinor and Edward, there was a carriage outside. Sir John was inside, sitting with the Ferrars, all of them sitting there all quiet and awkward.

"Marianne!" Elinor gasped as Marianne stepped in. Marianne could only look from Elinor to Sir John to Edward and back to Elinor: what was going on?

"What is it?" Marianne asked. Elinor exchanged an awkward look with Sir John, but there was no way out, they had to tell Marianne.

"Sir John received a letter from Colonel Brandon's regiment in Cadiz," Elinor started.

The seriousness of everyone's demeanour did not allow Marianne for one moment to think the news might be good.

"Oh God, what is it, tell me," she pleaded, colour starting to drain from her cheeks. Her breathing started to get heavy and the longer the silence stretched out the closer she was to panic.

"Shh, child, it's not impossibly bad. But not entirely good either," Sir John jumped in to calm Marianne down a bit. He could see that the girl had started to fear the worst.

"The letter. It got here through the continent and then across the channel and it has taken some time to get here. So we really do not know what the situation is at this moment." Sir John continued.

"The situation?" Marianne was not quite able to formulate complete questions.

"A friend of mine at the regiment here got a message through to the troops in service to send us some information about what they are involved in, and, specifically, Brandon's unit."

Elinor took Marianne's arm and gently pulled her to the settee to sit down next to her. Elinor held Marianne's hand while Sir John repeated the news.

"I'm afraid they had to go straight to the battlefield when they got to Cadiz. Hardly had any time to get used to the climate or even let their horses get used to being on dry land again after the crossing. They took some heavy casualties, I'm afraid, and the young officer who wrote the letter says he found both Colonel Brandon and that Captain Williams, who came to collect him here, at the field hospital. He doesn't know how serious the injuries are to either of them. Brandon had been asleep when he was found. Then the letter had to be sent off and that is all we know. "

Marianne was calmer now than a moment ago when she thought Brandon had surely died, everyone being so solemn. Calmer, but not without worry or fear.

"Oh God – let him be alright," she whispered, a single tear escaping from one eye. She turned to Elinor.

"Oh dear God I don't know what I'll do if he is not alright," Marianne's words still came out as whisper and Elinor could see how hard Marianne fought not to collapse.

"Shh… Dearest, all we know is that he was alive when the letter was sent and until we hear any more there is no reason to assume that there's any change. And the man has so much to fight for to give up. He will pull himself out of it, I'm sure." Elinor tried to comfort her sister.

This was bad. Brandon's fears had not been exaggerated and now Marianne had no way of knowing what his condition was. Had he been badly injured? When would they send him back here if he was alright to for the crossing? What if he was badly injured and the worst had happened, only she wouldn't know? Endless questions and worries kept rushing through Marianne's mind. During their courting she had already committed herself to him. Fully and for eternity. He had become a part of her, his presence completed her and made her very soul happy. To lose that would be cruel. For him not to have a chance at happiness and love was even more cruel.

The rest of the day and the evening passed in a kind of a haze, but Marianne decided to pull herself together and show the kind of resolution and strength that she so admired in Colonel Brandon: she would not accept anything more than the letter had said. Elinor was correct: until they'd hear otherwise, Christopher Brandon had received some injury but was recovering at a hospital, and that was that. There was no reason to alert his solicitor or to change the way his estate was running. Life would go on exactly as it had been doing so far, and eventually there would be more information.

Marianne's decision to put a brave face on worked quite well. No one dared to start speculating about Brandon's fate if Marianne was within earshot, everyone learned quickly to keep to the facts: injured, not dead. Only Elinor and Margaret really noticed how the underlying fear gradually turned to dread and faith in the Colonel's wellbeing started to turn to denial. Denial of the chance that making it to a field hospital alive did not guarantee anyone leaving the hospital equally alive. Elinor and Margaret both noticed how Marianne started to shy away from company and gatherings again. She still walked her long walks, alone, still read and played music, but the joy that had emerged in her after Colonel Brandon had asked to court her was rapidly beginning to fade.

As more time passed, the quieter Marianne became and the more often she was seen trying to wipe away any sign of tears. She would still visit Elinor and Edward, but no longer took to walking around Delaford: all the places she had been to, daydreaming of enjoying the spots with Brandon, imagining her Brandon there, dreaming of a future with him now seemed to intensify her fears. What if that will never be? It had been another month since Sir John brought the news.

Late summer was turning into autumn and Marianne had opted not to follow her mother to Barton in favour of having a bit of time to herself at the cottage. She and Margaret busied themselves picking the apples from their one apple tree. Margaret chattering along without a break, Marianne not really listening to any of it. Her days were spent in this odd fog now, as if her soul was a lantern turned down to the dimmest of flames, preserving itself until more news came. On this afternoon, Mrs Dashwood had gone to join Mrs Jennings for a luncheon and the two girls were alone at the cottage. Event their two servants were out for the afternoon and the balmy afternoon air with the golden sun calmed Marianne's aching heart as much as anything.

Margaret saw him first. Red officer's tunic practically glowing in the golden sun as the man came from around the corner of the cottage, seeing if anyone was home.

"Marianne!" Margaret exclaimed, jumping down from her ladder. Marianne was still holding the basket as she turned around and it took a small eternity for the recognition to sink in. She gasped, unable to speak.

"Marianne?" he asked, and Marianne dropped to her knees, close to fainting: Christopher!

"Marianne, are you alright?" he became concerned when he saw her drop onto her knees then slumped further so she was sitting on the grass. Brandon rushed to Marianne's side, not really caring that his ribs were still hurting.

Brandon caught Marianne in his arms as he, too, sat on the grass. She looked at him as if in some kind of stupor, not believing what she was seeing.

"Is that really you?" is all she could ask. She reached for his cheek, knowing that if she could touch him perhaps he was real. Brandon let out a laugh. Marianne looked so overwhelmed but at the same time happy to see him.

"Yes, it's me. Are you alright dearest?"

"How are you suddenly here? All we heard was that you were hurt… Oh my, Christopher, are you alright? Are you hurt?" she was beginning to get a grasp of reality now. It really was Christopher Brandon sitting on the lawn next to him. They were holding each other in a way probably not very appropriate, but young Margaret didn't give a hoot. She just stood there with wide eyes.

"It's ok, it's ok, my dear, I'll be just fine. I'm sorry there wasn't a chance to write. They put me on the next ship back to England when I recovered a bit and once we got here I had to come straight to you. I did promise after all." Brandon was stroking Marianne's cheek gently with his hand as he spoke to her, his eyes intently on hers.

"I had to come to you, my love. I have to ask you straight away or I'll not get peace," his voice was not much more than a whisper now, already almost pleading with her to give him the answer he hoped for. He'd been away for months, made her wait.

"Yes, Christopher. If you still want me, I'm yours." Marianne answered the question she well remembered he had promised to ask her first thing.


	16. Chapter 16

Her Eyes Opened: Chapter 16

"Does this mean you'll now be my brother, too? Like Edward?" Margaret asked excitedly. She was smile was so open an happy that it was impossible for Marianne and the Colonel not to join in. Brandon did not take his eyes off Marianne's when he replied to Margaret:

"Yes, Miss Margaret. And I hope you don't mind such a very much older brother."

Margaret laughed. She could not be happier. The Colonel made her sister happy, he had helped her family in so many ways and had taught her to ride horseback. To have him in her family's life could not be a bad thing. Marianne, meanwhile, only began to register how her Colonel was looking a little disheveled: a light stubble on his chin, hair longer than she remembered. His eyes were sunk and he looked so tired, almost gaunt.

"My darling, are you really alright?" she asked. He gave her another gentle smile, then reached forward and planted a light, yet lingering kiss on her lips.

"It hasn't been the best month I've ever had. There was the injury, then infection and I'm afraid it's worn me down some. But the doctors assured me there should be no reason why I couldn't get back to normal in time," Brandon confessed. Honesty and openness: he would not keep things from Marianne, and she needed to know what she was looking at, accepting his proposal.

Marianne responded to the kiss, but propriety under the eyes of young Margaret kept them from deepening the kiss too far. Instead, Brandon decided, he would be loathed to not hold his now fiancée in his arms. Not after everything. He moved around so that they now sat together under the apple tree, Marianne leaning lightly on him, Margaret joining them on the grass, lounging on her back with her head in Marianne's lap. In her excitement Margaret kept Brandon talking about his trip and things he had seen. Brandon kept his story light, hoping Margaret would not notice when he was avoiding certain topics. Marianne, however, did seem to notice his slight hesitations here and there, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to show she understood. There would be a time later, when they could talk alone and Marianne hoped he would be able to tell her more about how he got wounded and what his condition really was. Right now she could tell he was wary of his side – the one she wasn't leaning against – and he had lost weight.

Some time later they heard noises coming from around the corner of the house. It sounded very much like Mrs Dashwood, Mrs Jennings and Sir John who had come to the Cottage and seen the horse outside.

"Marianne, Margaret?" they heard Mrs Dashwood query before they saw her emerge, eager to spot who had come to visit. It was a man, judging by the horse and the saddle, and she had left the two girls home alone.

Margaret was the first to react, jumping up and running to her mother.

"Mother! Mother! It's Colonel Brandon! He's come back! He's come back!" is all she managed to exclaim.  
>"Brandon, my dear fellow!" Sir John exclaimed in surprise. He had heard nothing from the regiment since that awful letter. Mrs Jennings gasped a mixture of surprise and relief as well as joy in seeing the Colonel and Marianne sitting so comfortably together.<p>

Marianne got up and presented her hands to the Colonel to offer him help to get up as well. In his relief to simply be alive and here with Marianne the Colonel showed no signs of discomfort in having to admit to his physical discomfort and that he did, indeed, need a little help in getting off the ground.

"Mrs Dashwood, Sir John, Mrs Jennings.." Brandon greeted the party.

"My dear fellow, are you alright?" Sir John had to ask first thing. It was obvious Brandon's health was not at its peak.

"I have been better, but I'm here again and should get back to normal with time," Brandon repeated himself. He knew these people all cared for his health and wellbeing, and he appreciated it very much. These were his friends here. However, there was something more urgent he had to bring up. He let go of Marianne's hand and walked over to Mrs Dashwood.

"Mrs Dashwood, I hope you'll forgive me my forwardness, but I had to come here as soon as I got off the ship. Had you been here I could have asked your permission first, but as it was, I could not help myself and I have asked Marianne to marry me. I hope we have your blessing."

For a moment he wasn't sure what was happening. Mrs Dashwood's eyes grew moist, but a smile was forming on her face as well.

"Colonel Brandon. My dear Colonel Brandon. You have made a happy afternoon even happier. You've made it perfect." Mrs Dashwood started.

"Not only have you returned to us after we already feared the worst, but you have proposed and I take it Marianne has accepted. To have you as my son in law makes me very happy. And more importantly, you will make my Marianne happy, I know that for certain." Mrs Dashwood had taken Brandon's hand between hers as she spoke and squeezed it gently. He had to know he was more than welcome.

"Thank you, Mrs Dashwood. With everything that I am, I will try to make sure Marianne is always happy. And I know having her in my life makes me immensely happy. As does knowing that I can be a part of your family." Brandon spoke quietly, but there was no doubt about his sincerity.

Mrs Jennings could not hold back her joy for one moment more and she rushed over to congratulate the couple with hearty embraces – even the Colonel. His condition, however, became obvious to all present when he could not help but wince when Mrs Jennings grabbed hold of him. She was not even being terribly physical, but leaning on him just enough to make his wound protest.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry Colonel," Mrs Jennings apologized immediately. Brandon had to take a deep breath before he could nod to Mrs Jennings to let her know he was fine.

"Nothing to worry about," he said, but had to press his hand over his flank for a while. So long as the wound did not start bleeding again he should be fine. It had only just sealed itself properly during the sea voyage.

"Did you ride here from Delaford?" Sir John asked. He had seen Brandon like this before, when the man had hurt himself in India years and years ago: pale, a little weak looking, thin. Brandon should be careful not to overtax himself.

Brandon knew exactly why Sir John was asking this: it probably had not been the most sensible thing ever to ride over all by himself like that, but he had not wanted to wait a minute longer than he had to to get under way and to see Marianne.

"No, I came here straight from the port," Brandon confessed.

"Good God, man! Have you lost your senses?" Sir John reprimanded. From Brandon's visible condition he probably should not have been horseback at all, never mind ride for hours. Brandon gave his friend an awkward smile, then looked at Marianne.

"I probably have," he admitted quietly.

Sir John sighed. Of course he understood: the man was in love. And when a man like Brandon was in love and had set his mind to do something, there was no stopping him.

"You must promise you take care of yourself now, yes?" Sir John asked.

"Yes, Colonel, you mustn't fall ill or hurt yourself. I'd never forgive myself if your recovery halts because you came straight over here instead of taking a carriage to Delaford first," Marianne chipped in. She was very concerned with Brandon's condition now that she'd seen him wince like that. Brandon could do nothing but nod in agreement. He knew he'd have to take it easy now, but there was still the question of getting to Delaford tonight.

"Colonel Brandon, if you don't mind our humble abode terribly, could I convince you to stay here tonight and rest? Have dinner with us and rest a little. It would do you no good to ride home tonight, now would it?" Mrs Dashwood cut in before anyone else got a chance.

Sir John was going to offer Brandon a lift to Barton in his carriage, but Mrs Dashwood's suggestion was probably very appealing to his friend: he'd be able to spend the evening in Miss Marianne's company, and some of the morning as well. After their months apart, he would probably like that. After a few words of hesitation and checking that he would not be intruding, Brandon agreed. He did not want to miss one moment he could be with his Marianne.


	17. Chapter 17

Her Eyes Opened: 17th and final chapter

Tonight, Brandon did not miss Delaford. Other times when he had been away he would rather have returned to his home at the end of the day, but during this time away he had realized that he first and foremost missed Marianne, and Delaford came second. Even then it was really the possibility of Delaford with Marianne as its mistress that he longed for when waiting for his condition to improve on those long nights at the field hospital and in the military hospital in Cadiz. Here, at Barton Cottage, he was as much home as he had desired.

Cups of tea and more questions and catching up had taken place that afternoon before Sir John and Mrs Jennings left, taking Brandon's affairs over in-so-far as his horse and ride to Delaford were concerned. Sir John took the horse to be cared for in his stables and he'd be back the following day with a carriage (and the horse) and would take Brandon to Delaford so the man would not need to ride horseback again. He was tired and hurt, it was obvious to everyone.

Mrs Dashwood explained they had just a simple supper planned for the evening and hoped that Colonel Brandon wouldn't find that too objectionable.

"The tea alone was more nourishing than what we were offered on so many of the days in the continent. I am happy and satisfied with anything, rest assured." Was Brandon's reply and it carried no slick smugness in it at all: the man was relaxed and more open than Mrs Dashwood had had a chance to witness before. The formal proposal, perhaps, had broken some invisible barrier. Or was it the relief of being able to come back home in once piece?

The early evening was balmy and saturated with beautiful, warm light, and Marianne practically ordered the Colonel to take the garden daybed. It was the same daybed she herself had spent so much time on when she was still recovering from her fever. She wanted to care for him like he had for her. Wanted to show him he was precious and loved. She fussed around him, laying a blanket over his legs when he rested his head back and closed his eyes. Perhaps he did not intend to do more than rest his eyes for a moment, but almost as soon as he had done so Marianne could tell he was fast asleep.

His features relaxed and an expression that to Marianne told of ease and even – dare she think it? – happiness. Brandon was comfortable and relaxed and this was a great source of joy to Marianne. She fetched the blanket and softly spread it on the sleeping man before taking her chair next to his. Sitting under the tree earlier, leaning into him had been nothing short of bliss to Marianne: she had felt complete and at home all at once. She had belonged in a way she had never known before. She timidly reached for his hand now and laced her fingers through his, careful not to wake him up. She was unaware of her mother keeping on eye on her through one of the windows, smiling at the couple. Mrs Dashwood could not be happier now that the Colonel was back.

Lost in her thoughts Marianne did not notice Brandon wake up quietly, opening his eyes. He observed her silhouette as her gaze was somewhere in the distance.

"What has you in such deep thoughts, dearest?" he asked tightening his hold on her hand a little. What sweet joy it had been to wake up with her there, holding his hand. Not startled but surprised, Marianne turned to look at him, smiling so beautifully Brandon thought he might never be able to breath steadily in her presence again.

"Nothing in particular, joy, gratitude," she replied after a short pause to think how to put her thoughts into words. Brandon's expression was asking her to explain further.

"You are back. After se received the awful news of your injury, I refused to hear a word anyone said that perhaps we should fear the worst, yet I cannot deny that I had begun to worry. Privately. But then you came out of nowhere and the world is right again. I feel joy: bright, vibrant joy that you were able to return. And I feel grateful that your injury was not worse than it was and that, rather selfishly I suppose, I can be in your company again." Marianne was still smiling, but there was no mistake to how serious she was about what she was saying.

Brandon tightened his hold a little more, wrapping his hand around hers even more firmly.

"If that is selfish then I am guilty as well," he replied, and continued:

"For weeks and weeks I have waited for nothing but my condition to allow me to take one of the ships back to England and back to you. I must have you for my own, or my life will be completely void of meaning. And if that is not selfish, I do not know what is." Brandon, too, was smiling. It was finally coming true: this incredible girl he had so easily and irrevocably fallen in love with all that time ago when he least expected it had now agreed to marry him. What better: she loved him as he loved her.

"There are things to discuss though, I 'm afraid. I hope you do not mind it too much and indulge this old fool, Marianne?" he asked. It was Marianne's turn to wait for him to continue.

"You know of my past with the late Eliza Williams and, consequently, her daughter Beth. Beth and her child stayed in the country ever since she took there for her confinement. The child has grown, of course, and I cannot abandon Beth and the child now. What I wanted to ask you was to do with this arrangement." Brandon tried to talk calmly, but he was quite uncomfortable: he would be continuing a commitment he had made to his first love all those years ago and even extending it to include an illegitimate child by a man who had hurt his Marianne so much.

"Does this arrangement make you uncomfortable, dearest?" All he could do was to ask it directly and hope for the best. Marianne kept her eyes on him, clearly taking some time to think about what he was saying.

"Elinor did tell me about Eliza Williams, Beth and the child. Willoughby's child. And you mentioned your commitment to Beth and the child in your letter." Saying this, Marianne reached for her book on the table and pulled out, as a page marker, the almost tattered envelope containing Brandon's parting letter.

"The way you look after people close to you is impossible not to love, Colonel. You do not abandon those who need you and I am full of admiration towards you for how you spared no effort in looking after Beth. After I heard the history I decided that one day I should like to meet Beth, if that was agreeable to you. She is a part of your life and I wish to learn everything about you and your life." Marianne then explained.

"But you are not upset because the child is…"

"Willoughby's? No. That man is now just someone I used to know for the briefest of times. His actions hurt me then, but from you I have learned about true care and love and this has helped me heal many times over and allowed me to stand on my own feet. I feel happy now to be able to stand on my own feet by your side. The child is innocent of who the father is."

Marianne's words made Brandon smile again. What had he ever done to deserve this woman?

"You truly are a one of a kind, Marianne," he whispered, reaching his other hand to hold hers between his, pulling her gently closer to him.

The tension, positive tension, between them was tangible and Marianne felt her self pulled closer to him. Brandon lifted himself up from the daybed and quietly and gently meeting half way, their lips found each other's in a warm, gentle and caressing kiss that sealed their commitment to each other. Christopher Brandon had found solace and peace at last and could not wait for their life as a husband and wife to begin.

_Just a quick thank you to all who have kept with this story all the way. I hope it's provided a bit of fun and food for imagination. Apologies for hasty (or complete lack of!) editing. Thanks! G._


End file.
